Contentment.
My aunt said, "being human is easy. If you are in good health, your family is well and loves you and you have a job to earn money so that you may live and eat, you should be happy."
I remember when I was in high school when I would doze off in the sun drenched room of my art teacher's studio over a half finished sketch lit by the dappled light. He purposely kept the window's history with the memory of many layers of rain residue mark the glass to avoid the intensity of the sun so his twenty something orchids could flourish. The smell of baking sub sandwiches next door always made me drowsy; the warm smell of flour, the comforting fragrance of bread reminded me of an imaginary home. Although it was after school and I hung out at his studio at least once or twice a week learning how to watercolor or sketch, I never questioned my existence there.
I don't know why I remember those moments so vividly. I am most conscious of the things I am bored of. Yet as I look back, I've realized that the patience to learn has disappeared and left me with a voracious appetite for speed and temporal solutions. I used to think practicing violin was a pain. I never became good at violin because I hated practicing and what I hated practicing most were scales and arpeggios. If you can't master the basics, then you'll never be good and that was me. Yet despite a few tantrums here and there, I still diligently went. I never spoke of my rights nor never tried to justify not going.
I've realized my hot-headedness these days and sometimes the rashness of my words. It's been a very fast learning experience here in the workforce due to my lack of experience and sensitivity. Ask me if you want details because I do not want to share here.
It'll be interesting this next year. Chinese New Year. A whole new start. I'm vague in my paranoia.
My parents have come and now left. I still feel the tightness of my throat closing in. In my guise of independence, I still miss them when I say goodbye.
So my aunt is right. It is good to be just content with what you have. I have the job I wanted to get, a beautiful apartment, a church I am settling down into and am in good health with parents who just came to visit me.
My aunt said, "it takes a lot to be able to bake. You need to be in good health, have the strength to run around to collect the ingredients and make it, have the patience to follow a recipe, have the money to purchase ingredients and most of all, a space that has an oven. It is not easy to bake so when you are baking, even though it is seemingly a very small thing, it takes a lot for it to happen. Be content with that."
I remember when I was in high school when I would doze off in the sun drenched room of my art teacher's studio over a half finished sketch lit by the dappled light. He purposely kept the window's history with the memory of many layers of rain residue mark the glass to avoid the intensity of the sun so his twenty something orchids could flourish. The smell of baking sub sandwiches next door always made me drowsy; the warm smell of flour, the comforting fragrance of bread reminded me of an imaginary home. Although it was after school and I hung out at his studio at least once or twice a week learning how to watercolor or sketch, I never questioned my existence there.
I don't know why I remember those moments so vividly. I am most conscious of the things I am bored of. Yet as I look back, I've realized that the patience to learn has disappeared and left me with a voracious appetite for speed and temporal solutions. I used to think practicing violin was a pain. I never became good at violin because I hated practicing and what I hated practicing most were scales and arpeggios. If you can't master the basics, then you'll never be good and that was me. Yet despite a few tantrums here and there, I still diligently went. I never spoke of my rights nor never tried to justify not going.
I've realized my hot-headedness these days and sometimes the rashness of my words. It's been a very fast learning experience here in the workforce due to my lack of experience and sensitivity. Ask me if you want details because I do not want to share here.
It'll be interesting this next year. Chinese New Year. A whole new start. I'm vague in my paranoia.
My parents have come and now left. I still feel the tightness of my throat closing in. In my guise of independence, I still miss them when I say goodbye.
So my aunt is right. It is good to be just content with what you have. I have the job I wanted to get, a beautiful apartment, a church I am settling down into and am in good health with parents who just came to visit me.
My aunt said, "it takes a lot to be able to bake. You need to be in good health, have the strength to run around to collect the ingredients and make it, have the patience to follow a recipe, have the money to purchase ingredients and most of all, a space that has an oven. It is not easy to bake so when you are baking, even though it is seemingly a very small thing, it takes a lot for it to happen. Be content with that."
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