In two months and two weeks, I will go to my roots. There is a spiritual compass inside me that, instead of pointing north, points east: to the Orient, which is, for me, in many ways the source of all things. It is the beginning and the end. It is home and it is foreign. Though I have never lived there before, I know doing so now will fine tune my orientation. It will add another latitudinal line to the map that says, “I am here. This is me.”
Sometimes you have to run away to find yourself. How can I tell you, without sounding crazy, that my husband and I want life in Asia to be a challenge? We know some of it will be incredible and amazing. How can it not, in a land where orchids grow like weeds? But we also know (and hope) some of it will push us to the brink. Because sometimes, it is only when we are stripped of everything that we find out who we really are.
We love our life here, but we know we have become too comfortable and too complacent. We need to be nudged out of our ruts, we need to be disoriented, in order to recommit to what is truly worthwhile in life. When we become too attached to things, we stop living. Life becomes less about breathing and experiencing, and more about just existing in between one item on the to-do list and the next.
There is a saying in Thai: “Dai yahng, sia yahng.” Which roughly translates to: “To achieve, you must sacrifice.” I have wishes for us. Wishes for a stronger spiritual connection to deeper truths kept locked so deep the bearer doesn’t even know they’re there. Wishes those truths be found, and forgiven, and the openness leads to art. I have wishes for a new perspective that brings a fresh vocabulary with which the world might be newly expressed. I can only imagine what sacrifices we might be asked to make.
In the meantime, the identity shift is coming on subtle and shy. It is coming in cravings for fruit and heat. It is coming in the shift of desires: from cakes and chocolate to coconut and lime. I put away the cheese and pull out the cardamom. I trade in the neutral colors and instead revel in the azure and gold.
This is part of Madeline Bea’s Sunday Creative project.




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One of the things I love about spring is it seems to induce spring cleaning. And I’m not talking about no house neither. I’m talking a spring cleaning of the mind. Every spring I find myself taking stock of where I am, whether I’m stuck in a rut or need a change, or whether I just need a second (or third or fourth) wind to reach some goal.
I’m beginning to sense that my attempt at the Women Unbound challenge would be incomplete without a reflection on what I’ve gained from it. At the start of the challenge, I was asked what feminism meant to me. I responded: “To me, feminism is about achieving not only equality, but also liberty: the freedom to be who you are and choose the life you wish to lead, to offer your own unique contribution to the world.” When asked whether I considered myself a feminist, I said: “The term is so loaded these days, and I’m not sure I consciously apply that label to myself. I’m a ‘humanist’, I guess. I don’t support one race or gender over another, but seek to promote inclusion and understanding, so that we might all understand our need of each other. As Desmond Tutu once said, “I am, because other people are.” I’m a ‘thoughtist’ in the sense that I advocate thoughtfulness, not only in understanding others, but also in understanding ourselves.”
I personally don’t find this lack problematic at all. I think it’s good for people to have role models. But it doesn’t follow that those role models must be all-in-one: my same demographic, same values, and same generation. That would leave little to aspire to, in my opinion. I looked to different people for different things. Some were women; some were men. Most were older – for how many 13-year-olds are truly accomplished? And they came from a myriad of backgrounds. What they had were various things I admired: Jackie O. for her grace and femininity, the Dalai Lama and Rev. Desmond Tutu for their compassion and humility, my mother and father for their strength…there’s no shortage of capable and amazing people in this world. These people did not even need to be indisputable paragons of virtue either. It was my vision of who they were and what they stood for that was important.



