Point of Origin

I've noticed a common theme in many stories, whether in film or literature, about the sensation of being lost. Many broken but fascinating, complex characters have developed because of it. Without a place of belonging, there is nothing to restrain a person and he may be swept away by the tumultuous currents of circumstance, tossed along in a sea of external influences. To be spiritually lost is to be on a ship in the middle of a vast ocean with no map, no landmarks, and stars that follow erratic, unpredictable patterns by which it is impossible to navigate. After not knowing one's position for a long time, a breakdown inevitably follows.

Being away from my family has caused to me to contemplate the importance of having a place to belong, a home. I would not say that I've experienced that same sort of spiritual desolation that some fictional characters have, but I am still aware of how having a place to call home can anchor me. Knowing I have a place to run back to not only provides me great comfort but also great confidence. My home is the point of origin from which all aspects of me are derived.

In mathematical terms, the origin is the point on a graph of any type of coordinate system that allows all other points, lines, vectors, and curves to be drawn. It is the reference point that gives shape and an identity to all other points in the plane. Without an origin, a point may exist, but it is nameless. There is no telling where it is or what its properties may be. If one wished draw a path, whether straight or curved, without an origin, there would be no telling as to whether or not the path is moving in the proper direction.

I do not speak of home strictly in the sense of physical location. Home, in this sense, does not mean where I live or where I was born, but the place in my heart that I must run to in the face of the most desolate situations and insurmountable obstacles. Home is the place I go when I am weak and helpless. By that logic, home can indeed be found in a physical place, or in one's parents, in one's friends, or in one's God.

When I think of home, I think of my family. They are the ones who had the most influence in shaping my identity. However, even when I am far from their presence, they are never truly absent from me. All their teachings and encouragements have become a part of me, and this is the nature of home. Your home is a part of you. Your home becomes you. And that is how we can navigate the tides of life, even when it seems like we are alone.

Our homes are what give us our identities. They provide a foundation we may stand upon when our beliefs have been challenged, and we are thrown in the face of doubts. Having a home gives us the strength to believe in ourselves and stride forward because we belong somewhere or with someone, and we understand that we are valuable and have meaning. No matter what circumstances come our way, we are certain we can face it because we have a point of origin to anchor our hearts and remind us of who we truly are.

Of Course, a Thanksgiving Post

I would say "obligatory," but I feel like that would derail the entire point of a Thanksgiving blog post. I simply had such a wonderful holiday that I am almost compelled to write one, though.

I'm grateful for a lot of things, I realize. I'm always grateful for them, so I suppose it ultimately strikes me as odd that we have a particular day where we make a show of giving thanks to those who deserve it year-round. Well, in case I've been delinquent in showing my appreciation, I shall highlight what I am most thankful for.

Family
If you know me, this should be obvious. Though, I suppose I never really elaborated on why, or exactly how much I am grateful for them. I've seen the stereotypical teenager-parent relationship all over the media where the teenager is a brat and the parents are hyper-controlling and act like they've never been dumb kids before. I've seen people who are embarrassed by their parents and don't have much respect for them, and I've seen parents who rightly deserve it. I watch all these interactions from the periphery in puzzlement. My relationship with my parents has been far different. My parents never made the claim that they were beyond reproach. They were never arbitrary or irrational in their decision making. When I was denied something or punished for something, I always received an explanation for it. They never tried to live vicariously through me and never expected perfection. I've mentioned in a previous blog post that I would be dead without their support, and I would be. I would have cracked under the pressure that I put myself under without my parents to remind me to look at the bigger picture. They have been in my shoes before, and they patiently remind me that nothing is ever as bad as it seems. They tell me to keep my head up, and keep running, and as long as I keep doing my best, I'm never a failure, no matter what the rest of the world says. I feel as though I can do anything with them behind me, and I'd never willingly do anything to hurt or disappoint them.

That's just my parents. I can't forget about my brother. He is really the greatest little brother ever. I always believe actions are louder than words, and he exemplifies that old adage. We have a quiet, mutual respect for each other. Our relationship is not volatile, but I am aware he looks up to me. I only hope he is aware how proud of him I am. I enjoy our conversations about WWII and Halo and fish tanks. It makes me happy to see him getting passionate about something and enjoying things. I've honestly never met a more golden-hearted, noble kid. I'm sincerely proud of how he is always quicker to help others than I am. I can see how deeply loyal he is to those he loves and where he has come from. He's empathetic and intelligent and if he believes in himself the way I believe in him, he'll go farther and higher than I will. Don't ever feel like you are in my shadow, because you aren't. Don't ever let anyone compare us, because you are unique. You'll do amazing things as long as you believe you are amazing.

I'm sorry, I'm getting really long. I'm not even close to finishing. My grandparents are next in the family group. You all spoil me so much, it's easy to be that one ungrateful, entitled child who no one likes. Somehow, you have the patience to put up with me in my moments. I try really hard not to have them, but I'm fallible, and I don't have morals of steel. I'd say the greatest things about you are your neverending patience and wisdom. We must seem so green and inexperienced to you, and do stupid things, but you simply take us by the hand and guide us along. And you never stop giving. You give us in excess. You give what we don't deserve. You give even though you know we'll sometimes be so caught up in getting that we'll neglect to thank you. I'm always afraid I don't make it clear enough how much I appreciate you.

That concludes family. Yes. It was long. Don't worry, it's not quite as bad afterward.

Friends--My age
You know I couldn't forget you guys. Without you, I'd be equally dead. We've spent so long with each other or at least know each other so well that our bonds are pretty much unshakable. We can bicker, snap at each other, get annoyed, get angry, but our friendship is deeper than that. We trust each other, and even though we're scattered across the nation, we still trust and rely on each other. I feel that I can still rely on you, though I may not have talked to some of you in a while or seen some of you in a while. I thank you all for seeing in me what I sometimes fail to see myself. Even when I mess up or I think I'm a failure, it doesn't matter to you. Even when I do something truly stupid, you still see me as someone of value and worth sticking with. I realized that it is not something external that creates our friendship. It is not my interests--which change--or my achievements--which fall short--that make you believe me to be someone worthwhile. Somehow, you see something deep inside me, something true and unchanging in who I am, and the very fact that you stick around and encourage me, despite my faults helps to remind me of that true and unchanging part of me. Your friendship helps me to realize that I am a valuable person, no matter what. So, my friends, I thank you for your ability to see what I sometimes can't. I thank you for your consistent forgiveness when I fail you. I thank you for your loyalty and respect for who I am. I hope that I successfully do the same for you.

Friends--Adults
I sometimes find it amazing how much respect you all show me. I realize how much I still have to learn, but somehow you are all humble enough to give my words as much weight as any adult. I am grateful that you treat me as someone worth listening to and learning from when you could easily treat me just as another child who thinks too highly of herself. I am grateful for the wisdom you share with me, and the trust you have shown me. It always surprises me just how highly I hear many of you speak of me when I am so aware of my shortcomings. It's a reminder to me that my insecurities are just that. Your encouragement and praise gives me courage to overcome my fears and to treat my capabilities with honest self-respect. I feel that I would be less mature of a person without all of you to advise me and talk to me. Your friendship has helped me broaden my perspective of life and the world, and helps me understand others better than I ever could on my own.

My Life
I have things so good. I must never forget that. I must never forget that I was born in peace and prosperity in a good country. I have a loving family. I have good health. I have a home. I have good friends, a good education, a wealth of opportunities and am blessed with good luck. I feel that everyone should be able to have the sorts of good things I have, because I feel they are important things that are meaningful for a happy life.

These are the main things I'm thankful for and the reasons for my gratitude. No matter how much I complain or whine, I never, ever truly mean it--again, I'm fallible, and wont to be weak-minded. Whether I say it or not, and whether I act it or not, every day is Thanksgiving Day for me, and I have so much to be thankful for.

Why Can't I be a Normal Person?

I did rather poorly on a test recently, and this probably wouldn’t have been a problem if I studied a little harder than I did. But my brain froze on me, and I choked. The prof will probably be handing them back tomorrow, but I’ve already got a sort of rough estimate as to what my grade will be when I get it back.

I did some grade calculations to see how I will need to make up for my hypothetical score. It’s kind of crazy how one 70 can screw everything up, no matter how many 90s you have. If I do get anywhere from 70-75, it’s pretty much going to be impossible to make up for it and come away with an A in the class, unless he is really nice and gives a final curve at the end. But still, I would have to be near perfect on everything else in the class.

But that’s just the back story. My point is, while it’s not a hard class, it’s not easy either. And a B is not a bad grade. But over the years, I’ve built my mind around the idea that only an A is good enough, and just the idea of getting a B in this class is stressing me out like crazy, when it shouldn’t. It doesn’t help that I’m borderline in my computer science class (getting a 90) and almost certainly getting a solid B in my Real Analysis class (I’m okay with this, cause that class is fricking hard). I try to imagine myself getting a solid 3.0 which is a heavy fall from last year’s 4.0/4.0/3.8 record, and the idea just freaks me out. Meanwhile, there are lots of other students who are perfectly happy with Bs and not telling themselves that they’re failures and stupid. I try to tell myself that I can’t reasonably maintain perfection for the rest of my college career without driving myself insane, but the subconscious mind has a way of being astoundingly thickheaded.

I don’t like living like this, believing that having straight As is the only way to be a successful person in life. I don’t like the sense of failure when it’s really not a failure. I don’t like the guilt and neurotic self-abasement. Why can’t I just be a normal person who realizes that getting As is hard freaking work and certainly not the status quo? Because the thing is, I’m not perfect. I’ll make mistakes along the way. I’ll have bad days. I’ll have lazy days and lapses in responsibility. Don’t we all? But I’m doing my utmost, and shouldn’t that be enough for me? It’s enough for my parents. They aren’t putting any sort of Asian-parent pressure on me; it’s all been me doing that to myself! Ever since high school, it’s always been me. They’ve been nothing but encouraging, especially when I’m in neurotic stress mode like right now. I’d be dead without them and their wisdom.

I really wish I could take imperfection like a man. I wish I could accept that you win some and lose some and that’s life. I tell myself this over and over, but when will I truly believe that, 100%? I am fully aware that I have A-student elitism, and god it’s so unhealthy for me. Maybe I’m obsessed with trying to be better than everyone else. I feel like everything is so off these days, what with the world constantly telling us that we have to be better. Everything has got to be better. The best this, the best that. The winners. Number 1. There’s got to be more than that. One day, I’ll learn to stop telling myself that winning is the only thing that matters.

I still have so much to learn, so much growing up to do. Better get to work, because despite my insecurities, the world doesn’t stop turning and time keeps moving forward. Ultimately, my optimism saves me, I think. I’ve learned to keep my eye on the bigger picture, keep a good perspective on life. So even though I’m down right now, I know I’ll figure something out. Just gotta keep plugging away.

Choices

On the face of it, I don't make much sense. At times, I feel as though I have several completely separate sides of me, warring with each other every day. I declare my desire to fly away from home to a new state and a new way of life, independent and free to grow and succeed. Yet another part of me longs for the comfort of my old way of life.

There is a coward in me. It wishes to stay the same, planting itself in the past and digging its claws with powerful inertia. I fear new things. I dance away from awkward meetings with potential new friends. I hide in my room like a hermit thinking the world is too much for me to handle.

There is an arrogance in me. It runs deep and argues with the coward. It scoffs at people and looks down on the masses who all think and feel and live not-so-different lives. It is condescending toward those from whom I might learn so much.

There is a liar in me. It tells me I can't do anything. It whispers that the world is moving and more confident than I. It says I'm not good enough for the increasingly elite world. Not smart enough, not clever enough, not creative enough.

These are the things that hold me back, but they are not the only things. For thrashing against the coward is the dragon that knows it has vast wings and longs to fly. Against the arrogance speaks wisdom that reminds me to not discount the words of my peers for there is never an end to learning and no limit to who can be my teacher. And against the liar, there is reason that looks upon me for who I am and where I stand among the rest of the world's people and tells me that if I have come as far as I have, I stand just as much of a chance.

I have many fears and insecurities, many flaws, many facets. I am a sarcastic critic and a cynic who looks at things as they are. I am kind and courteous, thinking of others when it isn't even required. I can be scathing in one moment, then timid the next. Yet it is all me. People are complicated and that makes them interesting. They are not just one thing. They are noble, yet cruel, clever, yet so utterly stupid. Maybe there is fear, arrogance, and anxiety in me, but these are not the only things. They are merely opportunities to choose who I am and what I let myself be.

I have learned bravery through defying crippling anxiety and humility through being brought down in the midst of arrogance. The comfortable do not become stronger and the flawless do not grow. We are all contradictions and massive ones. We tell fascinating, complicated stories that are as nuanced as classic literature. My life will be a continuous struggle between each part of me, but it is that struggle that makes us so unbelievably, beautifully human. We are what we choose to be.

On Happiness

Happiness is pain. Well, alright, not exactly. Happiness begets pain: always. Happiness is in the comfort, the security, the moment, the stasis, and the world is changing. The world is changing, and we must, therefore, also change, leaving the moment behind.

Two years ago, my Economics teacher asked me if I had any material desires, and I looked him straight in the eye and said, "No." He looked quite astonished, and I doubt he believed me or at least thought I was deluded. I remain convinced, however, that I was the closest to the happiest, most satisfied person in the world at the time. I still believe I answered correctly and truthfully. After all, I was precisely that happy.

One year later, I had finished a year of college and was overjoyed to return home for the summer. I waited for what seemed like forever to be back, and I relished that summer. Now it is autumn, and I am back in school. I was reflecting on one particularly sad night about the nature of change and how even the most perfect moments of our lives will never stay with us. I came to realize how great a risk being happy--truly happy--really is.

We invest our souls in happiness, and when the time comes for that happiness to dissipate and move on with the turning of the world, a part of our souls is lost, only to be found in a memory, a mere ghost of the moment. And thus we feel pain, and a great, extraordinary, terrifying pain it is. Time flies, we grow up, people die, and we cannot go back in time no matter how hard we wish.

I think some people can't abide this agony of losing a deep part of themselves to the cruelties of time, so they opt for the life of empty pleasures. They invest in nothing, and therefore lose nothing, but neither do they gain anything. Happiness requires great sacrifice and courage. We give hearts up again and again to something we always know we will lose, yet we do! Why? Because it is worth it! Love and safety and acceptance and peace and joy are all worth it.

We move forward with the world, whether we want to or not. We are slaves to change, but that is not the end of the story. Though it seems change has a way of slaying our greatest joys, change also created them. Happiness has meaning because it can be lost. A life is beautiful because it can be destroyed, because it does not last forever.

I lost my heart before. I will lose it again. Parts of me have died and more will follow. I have no regrets. Happiness is pain. And oh, what a beautiful pain it is.

Old Children's Books

What I want is a search engine that allows you to type in a bunch of vague plot points from a book in your childhood that you can only barely remember and find out what it is.

There are some books that my mom loved as a child which were also read to me and we've been trying very hard to remember the names of a few of them but can't. I'm writing this blog post in hopes of possibly being helpful to other people trying to find old books one day when I actually get my crap together too. Maybe I'll make a totally new blog just to compile synopses of old books. For now, these are the books I'm looking for.

FOUND THEMMMM.

A Little Old Man by Unknown author 1(I don't remember this and I'm too lazy to google)

About a sea captain with a ton of cats on his ship. This is all my mom can remember.

Unknown book 2 by Unknown author 2

About a rowdy boy who makes all kinds of trouble. Known for "hootin and hollerin" up a storm. He loved Grandma's griddle cakes so much and she asked him for eggs. He went to the chickens and shouted so loud that the brown chickens turned white and white chickens brown and some other chickens turned polka dot because they were so scared, I think. He then tried to steal an egg from an eagle's nest at some point. He wrestled with a honey bear and dragging home a donkey. He fell in a well at some point and it took grandma, the honey bear, and the donkey to pull him out. Then the animals and the boy whose freaking name I can't remember all eat grandma's griddle cakes with strawberry jam so that they have red mustaches or some crap like that.

I was gonna edit them, but I realized I can't remember the 2nd title because it's really long or the authors either but we found them so life is good yeah.

Infinite Space

Just jotting down a few thoughts and stuff before I forget most of them.

"The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it. It's the way the atoms are put together. The cosmos are within us; we're made of star stuff. We are a way for the cosmos to know itself."
-Carl Sagan

I think the key mistake made regarding Christianity, both by those who oppose it and by Christians themselves is that God teaches us constraint, rather than freedom.

I also think it's funny how Richard Dawkins is such an outspoken atheist, yet he has said such beautiful and spiritual things with regards to the universe. I think it's funny how many of us believe that science and religion cannot mix, even though often times, the two say the exact same thing.

"We are all connected; To each other, biologically
To the earth, chemically
To the rest of the universe atomically"
-Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Who is to say that a scientist cannot also be a poet? That a poet cannot also be a scientist? How easily they become one and the same.