When you walk, you think - and you blog after.

Walking quietly, next to you, both of us wrapped in thoughts so far away. It makes me think of the difference between physical space and mental space. That physical proximity can be so powerful. Although I may be millions of miles away mentally, I'm still aware of you. I think my own thoughts, but I wonder what you're thinking.

I think of so many things. I guess its because I can't talk to you, you need your space, but I can't do something rude like pull out a book or listen to some music either. I can't sleep because I'm walking. So I am forced, not unwillingly, to retreat into the cove in my mind where I think deep, spacey thoughts. I get high on observations about the world and human nature.

I think (not in order):

1. How harmonious the night is. The quietude, the smell, the dewy grass. I think about how everything is unique. How each person's footsteps reveal their personalities, their mood. Whether they're confident, poised, serene; or angry, impatient, distracted. I think of breathing and how no two people breathe the same way.

2. I think about how counter-intuitive life is. We expect to grow more complex the older and more mature we become, but in fact we get more simple. As children, we act on our impulses and are taught not to. As adults, we have to "find ourselves" - get in touch with our impulses and against all reasoning, act on them. We find that what we wanted to do is the right thing after all.

3. Now, I think about how rarely I think. How infrequently I actually take the time to be completely away from consumption (of ideas, of conversation, of visual movements) and just occupy my mind. Why? Is it because I am afraid of what I will find? Or because I feel that it wastes time? Sometimes it does feel like a waste of time, because I can't remember what destination my thought journey brought me to, and it follows that all that thought-time was a waste. But perhaps in the recording of this process, and in your consumption, it wasn't a waste at all.

4. I don't think its wrong to want things. It is not wrong to want love, it is not wrong to be forthright about what you need. It is wrong to snatch things away or to make others do what you want them to do if they are unwilling. But in being clear about our wants, our reasons, our lives, our reasons for life - it makes it so much easier to be helped, and to help others achieve their hopes.

So the elation!

begins when you've finally finished a hectic week of school. Presentations, papers of various lengths to write and rewrite, meetings, reading for class, class debates, problem sets, doing favors for friends - all in a short five days! I felt like someone was knotting up my stomach all the time, my mind was strategizing every minute on what I was going to do next - and yet when I sat down in front of my computer I felt nothing but a paralyzing reluctance to begin anything useful and a compulsive urge to update Facebook every three seconds. And then there was the mind worm, the energy uselessly expended waiting and wishing all week for something that never came...

Yesterday night I slept at 4 am. Twice this week I've been up till the early morning. Yesterday wasn't quite as bad...the sleep debt will probably come knocking later. I'm hoping to cancel it out by sleeping well this afternoon and tonight.

When you're stressed out and strung out, every task seems like a major chore. Living seems to be an endless sludge, dragged on simply by the momentum of your organic fuel, never getting true rest till the day your heart stops beating.

I had so much time (because of the relative nature of time, as well) this week to think about why I'm here, and what I'm really learning. I realized that so much of what I do is extraneous. All this reading, writing, thinking...what do I have to show for it? My degree? My brain? I have stopped believing in my native intelligence. I don't think intelligence gets you very far here. Academia is full of the intelligent and perceptive, and I know without a doubt my professors can read through my uninspired bulls**t. What stands out as a good piece of writing in a curriculum based on memorization does not go far in an institution that prides itself on its interdisciplinary thinking and problem solving.

A crucial long-term lesson that I've learned from this (besides the one that I keep having to experience because I never internalize it, that doing work last-minute is not a good idea) is that its important to focus on a few things and do them well. I took five academic classes this term, one physical education class (Dance), work 8 hours a week, am involved in a very-active Asian American Student Union which organizes or co-organizes 5-6 events a month, am the treasurer of the Hall Council, the founder of the International Students club, and participate in a 2.5 hour weekly Bible Study. Along with the Saturday party nights which I am loath to give up, when all these commitments demand my time and energy at the same time, I cannot give it my best or even a decent effort. I feel like I'm fat-free milk. All the fat, the good stuff; has been skimmed off, all you're left with is mostly white, tasteless water. Or bak kut teh with only lean meat. Sometimes, a little sizzle, a little extra makes all the difference.

So next year, I'm going to make a conscious effort to keep the fat in. To not overload my schedule to the extent that I have to give up on friends, long walks, spontaneous conversations and new experiences just to maintain a good GPA and deliver on my commitments. I'm taking four classes, all different things and all promising to be pretty challenging. I'm taking one PE class, first aid, which is something I think I should know. Just in case. I'll still be really committed to SIS, AASU and (perhaps) Christian Fellowship, but I want to meet new people too. Being a mentor to new students is an important responsibility, and I need to make sure I do it well since my mentors have helped me so much along this often-difficult freshman year.

That's about it for now...I have a really packed summer schedule as well! Thankfully, the beginning and the end are mostly fat - 3 weeks in Claremont with no obligations besides cat-feeding and house-sitting, and a month of travel and exploration with beloved family and friends at the end. Perhaps then I will have more time to reflect on how this year has changed me, and what I should do/expect in the future. Or perhaps I will just laze, and rest knowing that I have gone through it well :)

Sometimes you feel like your own two legs are too weak to stand on

That's when you know what you're made of.
You need a goal, something to look forward to.
Look up, look up, look up.
Your tired feet will bring you to rest one day, my child.
Go north, keep walking, do not stop.
You are your own best friend.

Death and swimming

How is it possible to talk to 10 different people in a day, and yet still feel alone?

Is there something missing in online conversation, or am I just too self-absorbed? I think there is a bit of both (okay, perhaps a lot more of the latter).

I've been having a class on Death.
Death class --> makes me think about life, because all we know about death is from the perspective of the living -->makes me depressed about life but not want to die because now I have learnt that we ESSENTIALLY know NOTHING about what comes after. And that is scary. I don't even book a flight ticket without getting accommodation first. Who will accommodate me in the hereafter? That became a much more philosophical question that I intended it to.

Perhaps, in the end, we should not be left alone for these particular reasons - falling into moodiness and deep depths of thinking, when we should be paddling in the bright sunny waters. But then, how would we know what life truly is if we don't dare confront its edges?

There comes a time...

I have always wondered why people, when writing autobiographies, seem to write in terms of months passing, years and of the changes that they face then. For me, it has always seemed that so much emotion can be lived in a day, so much drama and change and mood swings, that it is insufficient to only paint one's changes, particularly in moods (eg. he was depressed, she was jubilant, they were purposeful) only in months and years and not days and minutes and sun-hours. Because a life can be lived in a day, and months can follow on end of nothing.

A misty state of mind

Makes me feel that all is possible, that all worlds are half-shadow and half-solid, that all emotions are multi-faceted, shining like sapphires.

I see in the past the paths that have brought me here and the ghosts of roads not taken. I look at the ground and see the vines that are strewn all over the way. This road, and every road I have walked whether deliberately or just as the result of the passage of time, have changed me.

It is a wonder that we can connect at all, human beings walking separate paths and brimming with destiny.

The irony...

I traveled to a foreign country alone to begin a new chapter of life.

I have been riding on competitive academic scholarships for the last three years.

As a university freshman, I am applying for a research grant that's usually given to sophomores and juniors.

I dance in public spaces, I sing without embarrassment, I make lame jokes.

I speak up in class. I voice my opinions when I think they are intelligent. I voice them even when they're not.

I participate in clubs, and when there isn't one that caters to a need, I form one.

I can do so many things I never thought I was capable of.


~


But I can't muster the courage to ask you out.