“What do you want in life? You don’t know what you want!”
Jody screamed into the phone. “No,” I responded sharply, “I know exactly what I
want!” I have always known specifics of what I wanted, places I wanted to
visit, things I wanted to accomplish, relationships I wanted to create. But now
as I look back on my past pursuits and look ahead into the field of unknown,
one thing I do know for certain is that I want to experience all that life has
to offer. I have long loathed the prevalent belief in that life is nothing but
a constant pursuit of happiness or contentment. For me that notion
irrespectively reduces an otherwise expansive and multifaceted life into a two
dimensional black and white concept.
What do I want? I want it all. I want the highest of highs
and lowest of lows. I don’t care to be happy nor am I addicted to sadness. I
don’t care for an easy life nor do I want pointless turmoil. I want to feel
everything in its most raw state. I want shed every piece of clothing, callus,
pretense, stigma and expectation in order to experience and connect to things,
people and events in a visceral way. I want to be a jellyfish without an
exoskeleton, a nerve net ready to detect every stimulus.
I’m proud of the life I have lived. I’ve experienced highs
and lows. I have pursued and accomplished things with conviction. I learned
about myself and created meaningful relationships along the way. The world can
be full of despair. Think of the waste, pollution, poverty, inequality,
injustice, famine, disease, conflict and war. It’s barely a place you’d want to
bring a new life to. Yet at the same time the world can be a miraculous and
full of resilience. Picture joyful reunions, the birth of a new baby, first
green in the spring and sunrise over ancient ruins. What will be will be. I
can’t make a swiping judgment on the world but I do believe in the strength and
kindness of individual human spirit. Each one of us has tremendous capacity to
love and be loved. I’m not here to change the world or leave a lasting legacy.
I’m here to experience life, all that it has to offer.
And now, more so than ever, I want to share and pass on
those experiences to my children. I want to introduce them to their first
orchestra concert, musical, opera, play, etc. I want them to see the beauty in
nature and appreciate the vastness of all that is knowable. I want to have the
wisdom to install in them the deep desire to explore the world and I want to
have the strength to let them go on their own to satisfy that desire. And above
all, I want them to experience the love and trust we have for each other.
When I first started teach guitar lessons to young children
I felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction knowing that they are going to
grow up knowing certain things, however small or insignificant, in music and in
life because of me. It made me want to be a better teacher. It made me want to
be a better person. It was comforting to think that someday, years from now,
they may even remember me with fondness. I felt like a butterfly that had
flapped its wings.
Twice I had conceived and twice I had aborted. The decisions
were made without emotional attachment or regrets as I clearly knew I wasn’t
mentally or financially ready at the time. Still, I remember very well what it
was like to see those two blue lines appear on a stick. In the midst of
uncertainty there was also undeniable excitement. For a brief moment I was filled with a secret sense of joy. But I'm at a different place now. I can always do better financially but physically and
mentally I’m ready.
On the last visit to China my grandmother said something I will
never forget. This is a woman who has experienced unimaginable transformation,
evolution, hardship and love in her lifetime. Yet at nearly ninety years old
she said, “I’m old but I don’t feel like I have lived enough.” I wanted to hold
her hands, hug her and tell her that she has lived an extraordinary life and
that it was enough. Just look at the family she has created. I am a testament
to the turbulent yet fruitful life she has lived.
When I mention kids, people never fail to inject how
difficult it is to raise them, especially alone. What they don’t know is that I
come from a long lineage of fiercely resilient women. When my grandmother was
in her early teens she witnessed her own father being executed at gun point in
their own home. When she met resistance for schooling because she was a girl, she
changed her name to a boy’s name on the college admissions exam. When my mother
was in her early teens, my grandparents were sent to jail so she had to not
only take care of herself but also her four younger siblings, barely surviving
on the measly amount of food they received from the neighbors. By the time she
reached high school years she was sent to a remote farming community as part of
the culture revolution. When policies shifted she was the first generation of
students to be admitted to college by passing the admission exam with brute
force of self-studying. And surely greater women before them have achieved far
greater things than what they were expected to so I can be here. I do have good
genes but more than that I have a strong spirit built on all those who came
before me. Hardship is relative. I am in no place to complain or feel bad for
my circumstances. I know deep down that anything I want I can accomplish.