Time and Place Utility

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about presence. Being present in the given moment versus escapism, day dreaming, etc. – because I’ve been trying to be more aware of which of the two I’m engaged in at given points in the day or week.

And when I say escapism, I don’t just mean thinking of a nice beach and a coconut with a straw close at hand, to me escapism can also be remembrance of the past and submerging oneself in memory.

I’m not going to tell you always live in the present moment, because frankly that would be very hypocritical of me. But I do think it’s important to realize the rate at which we frame our lives based on the past, present and future.

Lately, I’ve been recalling Bangkok with a tinge of nostalgia. This is really not news, nor particularly surprising. But as I wait for news of the current protests and check for updates from friends to see they are safe – it is clearer than ever my slice of time in that city came to an end. I am not present there, even when my mind wanders that direction.

I’ve been reading a history book on the United States. Yet again, my time and place are quite off from my actual geographic position in China. But it has gotten me thinking, about a Welsh word, actually – hiraeth. One possible definition of this word without English translation: “a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.”
How could I feel a nostalgia for a United States before my birth? How could I feel nostalgia for a country as it no longer is? As maybe, it only was in my mind and my upbringing, and not in fact? But I certainly cannot be alone. Even the offhanded “well back in my day…” it reeks of the concept.

This is a concept I’ve felt since before leaving the United States. This is, in some sense, something I think everyone has felt in differing degrees – whether or not they acknowledge it as such, or simply frame it in the more mundane terms of phrases such as “life goes on,” “that’s just how it is,” and so forth.

I think we don’t take the proper time to acknowledge our transitions; rather, we ignore them, we memorialize them, we deny they have happened and pretend we can spirit from one place to another unchanged – our same selves in a new context, our ‘good old selves’ when circumstance has frayed our edges, forgetting that our context begins to define ourselves. And at some point we look around, and our physical context has stopped matching our mental picture – and we start to wonder where, exactly, does this character that I am, on this story journey I have set in motion, fit in to it all any way? And isn’t that still up to me? So where exactly am I going? I ran out of map some time ago. I’m just making it up now – so what do I draw on the map next?

I don’t mean for this post to be melancholy, I mean for it to be reflective. Respectful even, in remembering the past – but that felt more important than the day to day observations at the moment.

So I will leave you with a story I was told many times growing up, and a memory I like to take the time to cherish when I get lost:

My father had just been granted permission to drive from his hometown to his University. He stormed out the door with directions to head south down a local high way. He promptly bombarded back into the house, and proclaimed, “Which way’s south?” A tale used to justify directional challenge of other relatives for years since.

I have no idea which way south is, or if that’s even the direction I want to be going. But I’m still going.

Reflections on a Year

Tomorrow marks one year.

I am looking forward to sunrise.
Not only as the middle day of the three day Thai New Year holiday, but of a project I chose to begin at this time last year. I have made it.
It has been a full calendar year.

Has the year been perfect? Of course not. Have I accomplished everything I set for myself at this time last year? No to that as well. But this is bigger than any of those.

This has been by far the biggest undertaking of my time abroad, for me.

I’ve learned a lot.

I’ve realized that often, being an educator and being somewhat of a journalist of cultural experience can be incompatible, or may be ill advised in what’s considered professional.

I’ve realized that sometimes, self-censorship occurs for reasons that are more in line with my personal values in caring for others than the need to record from observation and publish.

I’ve realized what I think I always knew, but perhaps was afraid to admit – one year is not enough.
But nor is the first year, of anything, going to be the best one.
You may look at me and say – but, you’ve been there two and a half years, so what are you talking about?
And? I’m not just marking time from tarmac to tarmac.

I’ve realized, or reinforced my idea that you don’t bring your Grinch to somebody else’s party. If that means you sit inside and sit out much of the Thai New Year, then so be it. It takes a bigger person to admit they cannot, or do not want to accommodate others than to fake it. And it takes even more than that to avoid bringing others down when you are. I value raw and real, but on this day, you have your celebration and I’ll have mine. And yes – that idea is part of the accomplishment of this year as much as it shows the steps that lay ahead for a second year and beyond.

I’ve realized that what I used to think I wanted, and what I used to believe to be the order of things – is not the only way the story can play out. Nor is it the way the story is going to play out. In some ways it’s a frightening realization, except that, it was always the case whether I realized it or not. You can make choices to work with and change your circumstances – but you don’t choose your starting point, or your curve balls. You’ve got to work with what you’ve got and adapt. And if that ends up leading you further afield than you first thought well – maybe, to get started, it’s best that way. It’s much harder to get cold feet if you don’t really know what you’re getting into. Once you’re in it, well, already here right?

I’m not extraordinary. I’m not entitled. Or required in the ways I once thought.
I am determined. I am driven. And I am striving forward, often on a path I never used to see as a viable possibility. Perhaps the greatest blessing of feeling your world turned upside down a few times early in life – is that it leads you to question more of the rules – and break more of them to open a new trail.

If you’d like to walk with me, really walk with me, I’ll tell you about my dreams. Walk with me long enough, I have stories to tell beyond that. They won’t always be sunny. But I promise they will be me.

It’s only been one year. It’s been a full year! So much has happened.
There is so much more to come.
And we’ve got a long road ahead, so let’s keep walking.

Samsara

Philosophical conversation bordering on masochism with colleagues is a regular part of my school day, generally speaking. Heavy-handed sarcasm and exaggeration are abundant.

More than once, the topic of karma has been brought forth.

One colleague in particular is convinced that he is not learning what he is supposed to learn at our place of employment, karmically speaking, and is doomed to repeat it yet again in the next life. I asked him whether he was certain he had correctly ascertained what it is he is meant to learn here. He seems quite certain, and quite resolute that he will indeed, succumb to repeated lessons he is not learning. I am not suggesting I have figured out my own lesson entirely.

People suggest quite frequently that I move elsewhere. But of late, my general response has been to the effect that you can pack misery with you. We each have a different lesson to gain from the experience life places us in. Perhaps one of the most important is to learn happiness regardless of circumstance; to learn happiness despite the continued barrage around us.

Surely, we keep striving forward. But are we shedding these things that weigh us down or merely muddling onward? A combination, I’m quite sure.

As we go forward, moving onward…