The Air, My Friend

The column by Jimmi Liao, on what’s instinctive to someone, may not be instinctive to another, and we shouldn’t, judge one another based off of what we know!  Translated…

Can’t believe they’re, learning to swim, what do they learn in learning to swim, isn’t that supposed to be, instinct?

Nope.

the artwork that came with the passage, off of UDN.com

Not at all.

By this “conversation”, we can tell, how we lacked respect for what each other has, that we make judgments of one another based off of our personal experiences, and the thing is, everybody has different experiences in life, just because it’s something you know, that doesn’t mean, that everybody knows it too…

In Love with Batik

Made a fool of himself, because he’d not gotten to know what sort of an attire the batik was! Translated…

On the weekends, the Taipei Main Station became a gathering place for the migrant workers. Seeing those Indonesian migrant workers put on their Batik (printed cloth, dyed with wax), I was reminded of thirty years ago, as I was, sent to Jakarta to work, I’d bought two suits, to be like the locals!

a sample of the cloth…found online…

I’d found the prints that were, plainer, the colors, not so bright, and I’d felt very crisp, wearing the Batik. The only regret I have, was that I’d not, have the opportunities, to wear it out to show it off.

Back then, there were, more and more Indonesian trading companies set up in Taiwan. We are, a shipbuilding company, with a lot of clients, and, we’d gone to the airports, twice, or thrice per week to pick up our clients. And, shortly after, in order to fulfill the needs, China Airlines started having the no-transfer flights from Taipei, but, the flights arrive at eight at night. Here comes my chance, I can get off work, go home, take a shower, change into my Batik, and go pick up the clients.

And maybe, our skin color was lighter than the locals, that, it’d made us, stand out, that some of the locals would see us, and look back, and smile at us. Then, I’d, noticed, that there was, a female police officer by the gates, who’d looked at me, and smiled lightly. I can’t be uncourteous, I’d, nodded in acknowledgement toward her too, and smiled my gentleman’s smile. Then, after awhile, every time I arrived, she’d always, flashed that smile toward me, and sometimes, she would really be, grinning, ear to ear towards me. And, the female coworker close by would give her a nudge, encourage her to come and talk to me.

here’s a person, wearing batik, from online still…

Then one day, as I’d, entered into the corridors, before I could stand up straight, I saw her, walking straight toward me, and I can tell, she was, blushed. My heart rac’ed a bit, but, I’d, warned myself, getting sent to Indonesia is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for work, NOT for romance. I have a beautiful wife, a cute son at home, this, is unacceptable.

That female officer walked toward me, said lightly, “Sir”.

Wow, she spoke Chinese.

She’d gotten closer to me, and said, very lightly to me, “Can you, not wear the pajamas, to the airports?”

So, this, is something that’s, interesting about culture, because you’re, in a different culture, and, the way they dress, is different than what you’re used to, and like this man had, bought the batik, which was originally supposed to be used a pajamas, and he’d, worn it out…cultural differences, is what we all need to, watch out for when we enter a different country from our own!

A Product of His Enviornmental Interactions

He was, a product of his environmental interactions, there’s NO denying that!  Being a product of his environmental interactions, he’d worked hard, to get along with, to adapt, to everything that’s happening around him, because that, is how he would survive.

A product of his environmental interactions, he’d fallen victim, and, once that had happened, he found himself, STUCK, and, NO matter how hard he’d tussled and rustled, he just, couldn’t, get back out again.  A product of his environmental interactions, during the last parts of his life, he’d come to understand, that if one is to ge4t along well with the world, then, one must make oneself malleable, so one can deal with the changes around oneself…

A product of his environmental interactions, he’d become, and, he’d fallen, to that mindset, and, NO matter how hard he’d tried, he just, couldn’t get out, he’s now, STUCK, for good!

A product of his environmental interactions, there’s no way, for him, to rid himself off that, because NO matter where he goes, he is right there, the consequences of his life, will always, be right there, behind him, ready to, catch him, RIGHT in the A-C-T………

 

 

 

Advising Us All, to Not Get Addicted to Facebook

The first of the Relativity of Literature for the month of June, translated…

Jia-Hsien Yang: I will never forget the day I got hooked on Facebook.  It was a period of my life when I felt most lost—yes, that, was during the time when I’d buckled down, and wrote out my doctoral dissertations, in the research center’s research rooms, the days grew dark.  During that entire year, I did not write a single poem at all, I’d checked out my progress on Word, to see if I’d written another extra five hundred characters and added three more notes.  At the same time, I’d started, writing on Facebook, back then, Facebook was not yet “populated”, I’d only gotten a handful of kudos, felt a bit cold.

At first, it was only, a place, to smooth over the wound left by my doctoral dissertation.  As a few years had come to pass, it’d become this demon that prevented me from moving forward in my research.

But, before anything becomes an addiction, it would get tangled up, I’d written and you’d reposted, love and Facebook, are both like so.  And yet, it’d become this method, this stage, and people are all, coming up on stage to perform now, to show themselves, to set up one’s own image, and forcibly, report our own whereabouts to the world.  We can classify our “friends”, decide how far, to spread the news of ourselves to the world, or to give a dissection of oneself in depth.  There were my friends who’d insisted on not adding their professors, or their students, as “Friends”, some had kept the bosses, the managers, or subordinates away, as your mom and dad learned to use Facebook, and wanted you to add them as your friends, this, was the commonly shared trouble for us all.  Mmmmmm, that’s right, I’m the kind, that added some of my relatives, and at the very end, I’d blocked all of them out.  This, was the weirdest part of this sort of interpersonal relations: we’re allowing strangers on Facebook to read up on the goings on of our lives, but, we wanted to keep the cousins out.

As my workload increased, I’d had a TON of idiotic postings.  As I’d gotten kudos for my idiotic postings from the scholars, it’d shocked me so (for instance, recently, Professor Cheng came to give me a kudos).

Juan Tang: Facebook wasn’t born from the stars, and, the nights flowed, never endingly, and, perhaps, this, is the end, of my career in writing creatively.  I’d spend all of my days in the research labs, silently took in, all the losses I’d suffered, in the online chess games.  Constantly, fighting it out, with unknown players, never knowing, who will end up, slaughtering me to pieces.

But, I HATED Facebook, I hate how it is like a whirlpool, sucking my entire world in.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh, could this be, the biggest BANG of my life from here on out?  The nature of Facebook, is not for someone, middle aged chubby men like me, it’s a place, for those adolescents to bullshit in.  And here, we would use “Kudos” as way of attack, and, the beauty in quantity is measured, the qualities step aside, with the experts, using their fingers, every single person who’s not that good gets a kudos, Facebook is the holy ground for online democracy that’s for sure.  People of all ages, living in all parts of the worlds, can state their opinions, and, those who’d followed the leaders get commended, those who don’t, get shunned.  The pages are refreshed so quickly, the applauses died too quickly too, it is, a world, without too much “friction” (who gives a SHIT about “your weird goings on”, your “innocent ways”, and “simplemindedness”).

Then, why are you here, Old dude?  Oh, I’m here, to tell them, to get out, to tell them to stop sliding on their cell phones, to not rant on bullshits, to read those useless articles, to give out kudos for no apparent reasons………for the sake of having a successful conversation, I’d taken up their brain dead way of communication, to laugh out of turn, like chasing the pointless trends, to pretend, that I’m an outdated, but still in the game, old geezer, standing on the side of the young, of the open, of the future (but what if, I’m not?), to deal that FATAL blow, to the ancient belief systems.  Can’t believe, that they’d loved it when I got angered, posing their innocence, and giving old geezers who tried to mess things up like me kudos; can’t believe it, getting kudos feels even better than that $300N.T. whole body massage I just got at Hsin-An Massage Palace.  (oh, I’m in love, beep-beep, beep-beep), forget it, I’m about to forget to head home now, I like you all, younger boys and girls, it’s so funny, Uncle will chit chat with you all a while, do you think my words are funny………

Jia-Hsien Yang: Well, uh?  You seemed to become possessed when you talked of Facebook, it’d showed, how normal I actually am, how I’d followed the rules to the “t”.

Facebook, in the same level’s mirage, how it’d mocked the goings on of the party in front of the temples, it’s truly, a high pressured world.  There is always something going on, there would always be two different points of views, duking it out, we can’t keep our silences, we must show where we stand; if we don’t, we are deemed as aloof, uncaring, chicken.  And, all of a sudden, Facebook had replaced all the actions of man, like how everything you see on Facebook IS the whole world.  No wonder as people marched onto the streets for protests, they needed to post the photos online (I’d done that too), otherwise, who will know that you were there?  Who would know, that you are, showing care and concerns for the society right now?  I’d often pondered: if I didn’t think clearly, if I couldn’t speak wiser words than those already spoken, using a different angle, I’m just, “checking in” at the right time and the right place, other than making my Facebook account into my bulletin, my views into stickers, making myself, into a drop of water, in this big and vast ocean, what’s the meaning of it all?  Of course, this, is probably, too much of an individualist belief.  Perhaps, someone would say: what’s so bad, being a part of a group?  I’d recalled, the difference in The Gilded Age’s Ling Ding and Hong Hsiao now, I don’t want to be Ling Ding, and I lacked what it takes to be Hong Hsiao, but, their differences gave me a revelation.

Like I’d destroyed the atmosphere that Juan Tang was creating by sarcasm of the partying scene in the temple celebrations now……but, Juan Tang said, that there’s not that much friction in this world, no wonder, I’d feel very relaxed and happy when I’d logged on Facebook; the designers are truly wonderful, allowing us to block each other from seeing us if we felt like, and, allowing us, to stop interacting with those who had offended us somehow.  I’d started ranting now, as I’d opened up on my views of Facebook, but, at the same time, I’m reminded, of the two years, nine days’ ago posting of mine, and I’d reposted something I’d posted some seven months ago back on my front pages, to be used, as a reminder to myself, as well as others.

And still, at this moment, I’m feeling, kinda anxious about, not posting anything of value on Facebook for so long now.

And so, this, is two people’s opinion on the usage of Facebook, and, undeniably, Facebook had become, the way we connect with one another, as it’d connected strangers, but, do remember, the saying of how the more you friends you have on Facebook, the less friends you have for real, because you’re spending all that time online, “following” the goings on of those Face friends, instead of getting face-to-face interactions with those who are next to you.

The Power of Psychotherapy

Psychology of the general public here, translated…

Anybody Can Feel Lost at Times

Before my days of serving my army terms on the external islands ended, before those days of no need for worries and just, watching the stars are over, I’d started calculating, what, I will be making a living off of afterwards.  Back then, I’d had two options, one, put myself up, as a manager of the foreign baseball players for the Uni-President Lions (I know I loved watching the game, as for my English skills, well, at least I CAN speak.  And I can also say, that I have the background in psychology too); another was becoming the editor of Money Magazine (before I’d enlisted, I’d followed the markets, and during it, I’d subscribed to the financial magazines by the month, I’d collected ALL the volumes).

For the former, I’d wanted to show off my English skills, I’d not written anything to show the headhunters, just how fluent I am, in the language, and for the latter, they’d called me back and wanted me to go in for an interview.  But, the magazine told me that there wasn’t an opening for editor, but there was an opening, in the sales department.  And, two days after I’d asked them, “What, do I do in the sale department?”, fate sent me a curve ball, turns out, the government had an experiment for two years, and so, I’d become, the very first set of “clinical psychologist”.

Two years flew by, with the experiences of the cases, I’d started having the doubts: do psychotherapy really work?  Unsure of my contributions to the parents and the students (I need to review my results from back then now), I’d actually felt, that I couldn’t do anything to help those who came to me at all, I’d needed to “climb the squares” in the midnight hours, to express my own emotional strains (and, I’d managed, to keep accords of these thoughts and feelings to the point I can get published already!)

Just as the experiments are about to end, a colleague begged me, to drive her over to the General Military Hospital, her nephew went into the service, and, got sent, to the psych ward, and was made, to stay there for an entire month, causing the whole family to worry.

Actually, it’s been a couple of years since my time in the psych ward (not for the hospitalization, but for my internship), it’d been a couple of years since, but, because someone entrusted in me so, I could only, tell her okay.

I’d recalled, how I’d observed how my coworker interacted with her nephew a bit, then, I’d started a conversation with that kid of not yet twenty that neither one of us understood what each other was talking about, then, on the way back, I’d told my coworker a bunch of things that wouldn’t help in the kid’s recovery, the point is merely, for my coworker, to be mentally prepared, that her nephew will become hospitalized.  Without knowing, before I dropped her off, she’d shoved a thousand dollar bill into my hand, told me to keep it (twenty years ago, that was HUGE!).  I was shocked, because I didn’t help them in any way, I’d quickly returned the money to her.  My conscience wouldn’t let me rest if I’d taken her money!  After we’d shoved the money back and forth, my coworker told me, “I just wanted you to know, that you CAN make a living off of doing this!”

Turns out, her family was split on how to deal with her nephew’s illness, one party is for him, taking rest at home, the other believed that hospitalization would suit him best, and because of my analysis, it’d given her the proof she needed, to convince her family members.  But what she failed to realize, was those words before she got off my car, gave the me back then, a boost of encouragement.

Listening, Allowing the People to Feel No So Alone

I did, accept the money from my coworker, but my work is almost done, and I don’t know where I’m to go, so, I’d returned back to my alma mater, to chat with my professor.  Don’t know if it was because my age reached a nine, or whether or not I was unsure of whether I should follow everybody else, go abroad to study, I’d felt so low, and, all the way to see my professor, I’d felt, that the world had turned completely dark.

I’d recalled my professor hearing me out, “I’m close to thirty, and still had yet to amount to something”, he’s flashed a smile at me, said, “I’m past age fifty, and feel that there are a lot of things I can accomplish, and you’re just almost thirty…”, he’d asked me if I’d considered being his teach assistant before I head abroad, and told me that I would have the chances, to being in contact with the elites of the society.

But, these ten minutes of conversation, I’d felt like I still had hopes (what the professor failed to predict was the earthquake that came a month later caused the job description to shift greatly for the next three years).  And there was something unforgettable, as I’d walked out of the department, I’d felt, that the trees had, turned green, the flowers, bloomed beautifully, and the colors, had all returned!

 And that, was the very first time, I’d realized, that talking, is healing.

A lot of the times, I’d have the families of the patients inquire, how do we accompany unstable, depressed, even demented patients?  Actually, there IS no right answer.  Other than making sure, that you are well, then, you can keep on accompanying the person!

And so, this, is a man’s journey, to find his own calling, and he used a ton of psychotherapy techniques, to help his friends, as well as those who’d come to consult him out, which just goes to show, that psychology lends itself to everything still!

Keep the Defenses of Life

Translated…

“Mr. Tsai, will you forgive them?  When they’d done wrong, they were still, so very young.”

The big boy, L, who’d voiced this question, is closed to 6’3, he was once the star pitcher of the professional baseball league, he’d thrown a ton of games which led his home team to victory, he’s one of the best defense pitchers in all of Taiwanese baseball history.

But, we’re talking about key points, not how well he’d done, two genius pitchers, one of them, a high school older schoolmate by a year, C, C had once received record-making wage when he’d signed with the Japanese professional baseball teams, and had struck the batters out for twenty-eight games consecutively, became the keeper of the record for “Japanese Pro Baseball Players’ striker”.  Another was T, “He’s a natural born pitcher, a star among stars.”  L described him using a worshipping tone of voice, T was also the very first pitcher that went on to the American Major Leagues.

And still, both C and T got involved in gambling, and, at the height of their careers, they were banned from the games, for life.

“On one end of the table was a gun, the other, your wages for an entire year, and, there was a beautiful woman, scented in perfume, leaning onto you.  When the world used the most enticing things to seduce you, and, all you needed, was to trade it in for a game, no matter how strong your soul, you will take the bait, right?  Mr. Tsai, they were so very young then, will you forgive them?”, L’s heart went out to them, and, my heart started wrenching.

I too, have a ton of regrets, regretting those brand new shiny stars all around me, because they couldn’t defend themselves against the gravities of those black holes, they’d gotten, sucked in, one by one, and, lost their chances to shine through.

For instance, B, who works for the custom’s offices, and M, who works for the police department, their departments had been taking bribes for long periods of time, if they entered into this “tradition”, they can get an extra fifteen days’ worth of salaries per month, and if they don’t, they will be transferred out.  And so, they’d become, “assimilated” and “gotten used to it”, until something went bust, then, they’d not only lost their public posts, along with their good reputations, and they also have that stain on their originally perfect records.  Back then, they’re not yet thirty, they were all once, my good students.

Temptations come in all shapes and sizes, but, they’re all just as enticing.  For instance, what Freud worshipped as God, sex drives, and the desire for revenge from Hamlet.  On that hot summer’s day, my close friend, “Rock”, before them, because his soul wasn’t heavy enough, he’d gotten, pulled in, and, he’d served, behind bars, for eight years for it.

“I can’t believe that I actually got out of there alive.  This lesson was, way too expensive!”, as the class reunited, the past had, stuck in Rock’s throat, “I’d lost my right to an attorney, lost my marriage, missed out on my own son’s coming of age, as I’d entered the prisons, he was still an elementary school kid who stayed close to his dad, and now, he’s a last year high school student.  This class I’m teaching, you ALL must understand!”

Rock knew, we’re all, fighting off temptations our whole life.

“Professor Tsai, will you forgive them?”

That day, I’d answered L, that I would, but, the rest of the world never will.  No matter how well they’d performed on the fields, so long as they didn’t keep the defenses of their souls up, in the end, they will, pay for their own lost battles.

L had once played for the team that’s most involved in sports gambling, but, unlike C and T, he’d not given his soul easily, he was still the pitcher with the lowest “rate of defense”, and so, the beautiful woman next to him, after waiting for him for ten years, decided, to marry him; and, the manager, my student, Renee, was moved by his simplistic and pure soul, after L worked hard, to defeat Korea, struck out ten batters, and, in exchange, for the sport injuries that’d caused him to lose his professional playing career, he’d decided, to keep watch over him for life too.

In a blink of an eye, youth passed by, with a bit of temptation, life became smokes.  And so, I’d treated, C, T, and Rock as the mentors of my life.  I know, that every day, every moment, of this life, I will be, tested by temptation, but, I must take after L, to put my defenses up, and so, in the days that come later on, I will get to, advance.

This, is the understanding of life a person learned from watching someone else’s life unfold, and, in interacting with the varied individuals, the writer learned who he wanted to be more, and who’s a bad role model whose steps he shouldn’t follow, a good way to learn from someone else’s mistakes here…

 

Learn to Read, Then You’ll Be Able to Commuicate Effectively

How to effective communicate, an IMPORTANT lesson indeed, translated…

A lot of people wished and hoped that they could have excellent communication skills, and, there had been an influx of books on the topics, naturally, some felt, that having good communication skills can be trained, so they’re willing to pay the big bucks for it.  And, all of these views, are only, half-way there, the most primitive form of communication starts with the families.

The parents are our earliest models of human interactions, through observing our parents’ ways, we’d started modeling after the way they’d communicated with one another, the influence of the parents is especially important, in helping the child to establish interpersonal relationships and communications as well.

But, some would say, that my parents aren’t really talkative, they’d not even proven that I’m too talkative to the others in the world, because they told me, that the world is dangerous, feared that I might get tricked, then, does that mean, that I will NEVER be able to communicate well with others?

If there’s a need, there must be a “cure”, otherwise, where do you think all those books on communicating well come from?  With an inherent disadvantage, you can still make up for it.  Good communication can be established with reading habits, not just reading in silence, but to read aloud, and to write it all out too.

You all must be very curious as to why that is.

Here, reading means the generals of knowing how to observe, to model after the right kinds of ways you’d communicate, and to adjust your ways of conversing with others through the observations of micro facial expressions.  But, observation can only be achieved through staring at someone else nonstop, being mistook for a psycho; reading, however, is much simpler, through the words on the pages, you’d be able to visual what is going on, all of these, are learning that occurs later on in life, something that is not inborn.

For instance, in middle school, the students would fight to read those novels of sword fights, and, in the off-periods, everybody would talk about it, and made gestures, as if we were the characters in the stories, about to duel it out, and this, is the prove of practicing communications.

And, another mentioned way, writing, is also an alternative way to communicate, and it would help the brain to connect and structure the words, when the dialogues are presented in written form, you will find, that you’re ability to express yourselves have increased.

With the combinations of reading more, after accumulating enough vocabularies, then, you’re conversations become more and more enriched too.

On mentioning of writing, everybody must be wondering, what would words have anything to do with communication?

Let me give you an example, in on conversations, we’d often used the word, “so”, “but”, and, from a written perspective, “so” represented the results, however, “but” is meant to disregard it.

The occurrences of “but” is way higher than “so” in verbal communications, and, it would make people confused, initiate a misunderstanding, even, a fight.  This, is the igniting keyword for a lot of the family disputes as well.  And so, “but”, should be listed as one of the “carefully used” words for verbal communication, because it rarely occurs in a pleasant conversation.

Of course, other than “but”, there are, a lot of other words, arranged differently, can create different meanings, and, all of these are, the wonders, of using words.

Reading is the basis of establishing means of communication, and, practicing talking and listening, is the start, of building up of great interpersonal relationships.  The next time we’ll discuss how to use words, to create influence in life, so, more people will notice you.

And so, there you have it, the KEYS to communicating well, and, you DO have to read first, before you can effectively communicate, and here, reading does not mean flipping through those pages of books, it also includes observing other people’s nonverbal cues toward what you have to say, after all, don’t over seventy-percent of communication happen NONVERBALLY? (Correct me if I’m wrong!!!), so, it IS important, to keep an eye on other people’s expressions when you’re talking to them too.

Found My Son, in a Pile of Trash, on Infertility

Translated…

My aunt who’s past eighty had become easily agitated a lot lately, because her dearly beloved grandson had been married for a long time, but still hadn’t had a child yet.  Once, my aunt asked me, “I recalled that you were infertile for a very long time too, how did you get pregnant in the end?”

I said to her, “I’d found my son, in a pile of junk.”

My aunt looked at me with her disbelief, and so, I’d told her about this story from long ago.

Back then, because I feel the need, to win at everything, I’d placed too much pressure on myself at work, and so, I couldn’t have a child for a very long time.  Back then, what I feared the most, was going back to visit my mother-in-law’s house, she’d often told me, without much thought, of how a certain neighbor of hers just became a grandma, and how cute the baby was, how she’d envied her, etc., etc., etc.

One day, I’d thumbed across the line, “Sometimes, you’re destined to receive, and, when you’re not you mustn’t force it”.  It wasn’t a special statement or anything, but it’d made me, who was feeling too taxed out at the time, contemplate on the words very much, all of a sudden, I’d felt why must I pursue the things that I’m not even so sure of beholding?  And so, I’d quit my busy job, and worked part-time at home, took in the cases, and allowed my body and my mind, to relax completely.

That very day, my husband found a set of Chinese medicine books in the junk piles, he just felt, that working on the cases that I’d worked on, the books may prove to be helpful to me someday in the future, so, he’d brought the set home.

Later on, I’d found a name card in the book, of a Chinese Medicine Doctor, I’d heard my classmate told me, that he specialize in women’s troubles, and would travel between Taiwan and the U.S., and, he didn’t have a specified time that he’d stayed in Taiwan.  I’d tried dialing the number on the card………Later on, there’s finally, an addition to the family………so, basically, saying that I’d found my son, in the trash piles is the truth.

But, what I really wanted to tell my aunt was, , the medical advances of today, is better than when I tried to get pregnant in my time, if the couple was willing to go allow with the treatments that the doctors prescribed, it shouldn’t be that hard, to get pregnant.  But, the decision of whether or not to have children should be left, to the younger generations, even IF worries are needed, leave it to their parents, the grandparents’ generations had done their duties already, so, STOP worrying!

Plus, I really don’t know, if my getting pregnant was the treatment by the Chinese medicine doctor, but back then, I was, relaxed, plus, I’d not forced it, and, my system functioned better.  As for “I’d found my son, in a pile of trash” matching up to the statement of, “Where or not it’s meant to be in life, leave it up to fate to decide”, maybe, it was, only a coincidence.

But I KNOW better, that it’s NOT a coincidence, because you were meant to have a child in life, and, because you were too stressed out from before, and, then, you’d learned to relax, and just, leave everything to FATE, and by taking away that psychological stress that you’d placed upon yourself, your body became more receptive, and that, was how you were able to get pregnant easier…

Do Look More at Your Spouse’s Better Qualities

Translated…

Last weekend, I’d asked along a couple of good friends, and, we took all our kids to Dahu Park, on the one hand, our kids could have each other’s company, and, on the other, it’d given us, mothers, a breather, to chit chat with each other, to reconnect with one another.

Mei-Jun who arrived late to the gathering came, complaining about how her husband would just sleep in on the weekends, rarely helped out around the house, nor does he schedule outings with the children; and, she’d become responsible, for the kids’ recreational activities on the weekends, and, from time to time, when her husband came along, he’d only acted as the chauffeur, drove everybody to the spot, then, headed back home to sleep some more.

After Wen had heard, she’d started envying Mei-Jun, turns out, that her household was exactly the opposite from Mei-Jun’s.  Wen who keeps everything tidy wanted the weekend, to clean up, but, the husband believed, that the weekends should be spent, away from home, whether it be going to the movies, or to sightsee.  Although Wen knew, that going on outings as a family is an amazing experience, but, when she thought of how much work that needed done around her house, she couldn’t help, but feel worried.

Then, Yu-Jen joined in the discussion too, even though her husband doesn’t have that many bad qualities, but, he is reactive, needed to be told what to do; but, the things that she’d missed, her husband ignored.  In the end, everything big and small in her house, relied on Yu-Jen, as the “commander” to handle, and, her husband became a pawn that just runs the errands.

Hearing my girlfriends started describing how displeased they were at their husbands, I couldn’t help, but smile, turns out, based off of the standards my good friends had set up, my husband is a perfect ten, hard working, and can cook (although he rarely had any chances to), and on the weekends, he’d taken the kids out exercising, cycling, camping, climbing, and would also accompany my children as they worked on their art, or practiced their piano.

But, this sort of a perfect husband has a weird habit, he’d wanted to order everything, books, shirts, pants.  He’d ordered everything in his closets by sections of shirts, pants, suits, and, lined his clothes up based off of length and color too; on his bookshelves, he’d ordered his books by the types of books he had, then, sorted them out by sizes.  The bathroom and living room slippers must be orderly, so it would be convenient, to the next person who uses it.

After my husband heard, they’d all shook their heads, thought that this precise man can impose a great deal of pressure on his family, and, everybody all of a sudden felt, that their husbands in their daily living, are actually very good, despite how messy they can get.

I’d smiled and told them, “each couple have differences in upbringing, if you can respect and cherish one another’s good qualities, then, you’d gotten along nicely.  Marriage is not changing the other person into another you, instead, it’s making sure, that your qualities complemented each other’s, so one plus one is greater than two.”  As for who gives more to whom, don’t nickel and dime, after all, love is the point, so, we’re all, giving to our families, willingly.

And so, each house has its separate issues, and, what you see as a good quality in someone else, may not be a good quality, to someone whom the person is close to, so, stop envying one another, and just cherish what you have.

After I’d Lost My Job

Gives you a brand new perspective on things, after you’d lost your job, and now, after you’d reexamined yourself, you can start again, on a fresh note, translated…

As everybody is ushering in the brand new year, I’d had to face the facts, of my company closing down, and being out of a job.

Losing the job during the Chinese New Years is an awful thing, and, all of my friends and families had commented, “That’s such a shame, there goes, your year-end bonus!”

Recalling just six months ago, when I’d realized, that my company was laying off the employees one by one, I’d already started planning.  After all, I’m getting older, and, the opportunities won’t come at me like they used to.  Even so, I’d still held that positive attitude, study at home, or, apply for new job.

This year was just the year when my son is taking his entrance exams for high school, I’d busied myself in and out daily, chauffeuring him every single day; my daughter who’d come home for her winter break got to sleep until she wakes herself, and enjoy the home cooked meals prepared by her mother.  See how happy she looks, this, was the small-time happiness she never had the chance of experiencing since birth.

Is it scary, to become unemployed?  I’d asked myself this a lot recently.  Because I’d lost my job, I’d had more time, to prepare the meals for my family, to tidy up the house more; because I’d lost my job, I’d gotten more time to stay at home, and, after having that honest heart-to-heart with myself, I’d realized, my past mistakes.

Losing my job became a turning point for me, I expect that I will be able to face my unknown future with more bravery, because I’d gotten beaten, losing my job and all.  Carrying on with this positive mindset, and, embrace the bottom half of my life that is solely mine.

And so, you’d carried that positive outlook on life, even though you’d lost your job, and, it’s that positive attitude that will help you in the futures to come.

Childhood Sweethearts

The BEST of times here, translated…

Not identical to that crush, back then, we still don’t know the meanings of love yet, with the heart of adoration, but, we were, more confused at that age.  Sometimes, we were inseparable, at others, we were, enemies, and the very next day, we’d gone to school together, sat on the same rows.  We were, childhood sweethearts, and, we were saved, in one another’s memories as young, naïve, pretty and naughty.  That, was the faces of the time from kindergarten to elementary school, so close, and inseparable, and afterwards, when we’d thought about one another, that smile would, slowly, creep up onto our faces.

Those faces, had, walked into, the elementary school reunion, thirty years later.  Released, exploded, if our own children see us, they would still not believe it, turns out, that their parents, were once, young children like they are too, they were, rowdier, than those classrooms, without the teachers watching over the classes.  Those we’d lost touch with after we left the elementary years, we’d taken a look at one another closely, and, we’d all managed, to return one another, back to when we were still just children again.  That naughty boy who’d once taken his own sunny side up, and shared it with that little girl, that generous girl who’d won the love of all the boys in her class, those who’d traded candies and toys smiled at one another, and, those who’d fought with themselves are the happiest now.  Reconnecting, the women started talking with their childhood girlfriends about the happenings in the girls’ lives, and, the men shared those old days of making trouble as boys with each other too.  We’d all grown, all became strong, with our separate life experiences too.  Our statuses and our positions, our occupations don’t matter at all, we were, competing with one another, who’d gotten punished the worst by our instructor back in the day, who’d made fools of themselves the most number of times, and, those troubles in our past became, a beautiful song that we shared with one another.

Childhood sweethearts, the hearts were true back then.  I’d once followed and traced their footprints, Googling them, tracking them in secrecy using Facebook, silently prayed, that they’re all okay, that after she’d fallen ill, she could cherish what’s important more, that he’d grown stronger, after getting up from his falls.  The over thirty years of absences from one another’s life, were traded, in secrecy, and, we’d continued, holding on, picking up where we left off, in our childhood years, smiling more radiantly for her sake, giving him a louder applause, although we may be far apart in physical distances, we could still connect with one another, still give each other kudos.  The reunion of the younger years, can make people escape their current life situations temporarily, to allow you, to realize, that those who’d shared your ups and downs from way back when, should be the ones you’d cherished the most.

Looking at the sign-in books, and, the times we’d shared all came back to life again, and, it’d showed a picture of that pasture in our childhood years, the wind woke a pair of young childhood sweethearts from nap, the childlike, the shy, the words that filled our hearts, just wouldn’t, come out, articulate, and back then, we’d all just said, “It’s nice to meet you.”  Without realizing, that thirty years from then when we’d met back up again, we’d stated it simply, “So glad to see you again.”

Turns out, this group of seven, eight year-olds who’d mowed the grasses by the fields, those laughter, those silently slacking off, we were, practicing, for the happiness and the sorrows, of our current lives.

So, that, is how much, the childhood days can affect a person, huh???  And, the writer went from talking about his elementary school reunion, and, connected it to how those childhood experiences, had made him into who he is today.

Brownies & Sighs

Translated…

At the entryway of Taishun Street, there’s a chocolatier.  I’d found myself, standing in the shop, eyeing all the delicacies, and, I’d had my eyes, set on that sighing brownie.

Could it be the colors, or the name of the product that kept me intrigued.  The soft and fluffy chocolate seemed to be barely held together, and the flour became more like the decorations.  What intrigued me the most was the “Sighing” in the name of the product, so, I’d pressed the beautiful female shop clerk, why the sigh?  Could it be, that when the guests eat it, they couldn’t help, but sigh?  Or, are we not supposed to, cover our lips, as we enjoyed the desserts, smiling on lightly?

The clerk told me, that she didn’t know where the name came from either, that the name of the product was given by the female owner of the shop.  I thought, could it be, that this mysterious person had, sighed, as she’d baked the goods, or, is she like, a lot of the writers, when they’d eaten the cakes, the memories, started, surfacing once more?

I’d looked around the shop, wanted to find more clues to the name myself, the card in front wrote: seventy-percent pure chocolate, this, is more than enough, after all, there’s NO one-hundred percent chocolate cakes in this, consumer-run world, so that, is what gave it the sighs.

There was a family living next door to the chocolatier, or rather, it was, only an entryway to a garage, a very long time ago, an assortment of wind chimes hung there.  Back then, I’d loved passing by there, during the summers, the wind chimes would ring simultaneously, there was one, with the tails, swaying back and forth in the wind, like it was, telling me, a story.

If I’d only wanted to hear the stories, I’d be better off, ringing the doorbells, and tell the owner of the place, the reasons for my visits.  Oh, how I’d hoped, to hear the stories, so I can be, turned, into a wind chime too.  Although, I’d imagined so many stories, none of them was real.

There was a famous writer who once said, there are so many people in the world, going through the same things, so, even IF it’s just a story you’d imagined, it may have already, happened, that someone actually had, sighed, as they’d taken a bite of that brownie.

That cake, was for the ailing mother-in-law, she’d been bedridden a long time, and could no longer swallow the solid food items anymore.  Her daughters said, that she’d missed the brownies she’d had when she was younger, and, they’d cut the brownie I’d bought, into smaller pieces, sent them into her mouth.  The bitterness matched well with the sweetness of the brownie, it’d become fermented inside her stomach, and, drew her back to her past, younger days.  And back then, the sigh was from those who were around the mother-in-law, and, nobody KNEW what the story that flew back into the mother-in-law’s mind was, when she could still talk, she’d told her daughters, one by one: “You are my dearest child”.

It’s just, that, in order to hear the mother-in-law state so, is like proving that the wind exists by hanging up the wind chimes.

The very next weekend, we’d found ourselves, outside of this chocolatier once more, and bought the same kind of “Sighing Brownie” again, and, I’d asked again, for the stories behind the item, what kind of stories, are hidden, inside the dessert?  The female store clerk only looked at me, and replied, “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”, couldn’t understand my question.  I think, she may not know which story I’m asking for.

At the end of the year, the daughters held a birthday party for the mother-in-law, and, everybody was there, in a café, where you can put puzzles together, the mother-in-law was in her wheelchair, with the feeding tubes attached to her body, making HER entry, that day, she’d left her sickbed, but, couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t liquid, and that time, her children not only just got her a piece of the brownies, but, an ENTIRE cake!  Everybody sang “Happy Birthday” to her, and started eating the food, I’d heard sighs, coming out of the lips of everyone who was there, like how mercury would roll around, nonstop, on the floors.

He’s still bought the brownies, carefully, carried them, to his mother-in-law’s place, but, the daughters only gave the white box one look, “Oh, mom can no longer eat, especially sweets!”  she’d waken up at specific times, and, tilted her head, to the Korean soap that was playing on the television, to show, that she’d still had, connections to the world.  I’d still walked out of the dessert shop, wanted to see the wind chimes, that put on the symphonies, and, I’d realized, that after the windy season had come and gone, the family had, put up the wind chimes already, and this confused me, as to whether or not it was, a windy day that day, or maybe, if I will, get a chance, to hear the sighs.  “But, this, IS a great big world, wind is bound to blow somewhere.”  I’d started getting curious, at that moment, the ratio of people who are sighing, hopefully, is not just seventy, to the people who are smiling.

The last moment had come, in the hospital ward of NTU Hospital, the brownie was placed on the stand, with everybody sighing.  The mother-in-law didn’t move a muscle, her life is reduced, to the electrocardiogram, and the oxygen concentration in blood, and the pulse charts, the families and friends took turns, coming in and out, saying goodbye to her, someone kissed her on the cheeks, her blood pressures rose all of a sudden, and, maybe, she was reminded, of a past event, the first time she’d heard the wind chimes, perhaps?  But, her blood pressure kept dropping down, in the afternoon, the doctors came, decided to give her a shot of morphine, and, not long thereafter, the mother-in-law had passed on.

They’d moved her body, into the morgue of the hospital, and, arranged her final affairs.  Nobody recalled that piece of cake I’d bought, I’d recalled how I’d once gotten into contact with Dr. Wu of the psychiatric department of N.T.U. Hospital, as I’d typed, I’d sighed on, “The mother-in-law fought hard, with her terminal illness in N.T.U., and maybe, she’s nearing the dusk of her life.”  Then, just like the distant wind chimes sounding off, Dr. Wu replied, “The N.T.U. has over a hundred years of history already, there were, a lot of people, who’d lived out their dusks there.”

The cake is saved and given to the warriors, and, the war is already over, although, it’s still, a long ways away, from the dusks.  I took the brownie away, and, left the sighs.

And so, this, is from the firsthand interaction, with the families of someone who’d fallen ill, and, the narrator was not only an observer, reporting what he bore witness to, but, he’d also, participated, in the stories.  It showed, the life of a woman, how she lived, and, how she was grieved for, after she had passed on…