Turning Twenty

A blink of an eye and two decades had gone by. It's kind of scary if you really think about it. Given my fondness for analyzing my past, I shall do no less than to devote a long entry to this task, and spend a bit longer than normal in the composing of this post. It's a birthday present to myself, really. Well then, here goes.

THE DANDELION

If you where a flower, what would you be? Ten years ago I had decided that I would be a dandelion. In China, where I was back then, dandelions were not thought of as an annoying weed, but a plant that can thrive in harsh conditions, like along a single crack of a sidewalk. That wasn't why I thought of myself as a dandelion, thought. The reason was that I had been living a somewhat nomadic life, floating around the globe – like the seeds of the dandelion. I hated it then. Whenever I thought that I was home, I found myself in a different country, with a language I didn't understand and a drastically different culture. I was quite unwilling, especially the time I found out that we were moving to Canada - I guess I was old enough to start resisting, then.

So yes. As said in poetry, 飞到哪里, 哪里就是我的家 (wherever I fly, that will be my home) was my way of life.

It was so long before I learned to see this as an opportunity, to finally try to take advantage of all the doors that opened to me each time I was somewhere new. I do wish that I had thought this far when I was younger, or at least learned about things that really mattered - to ask questions when the right people are near, to think for myself and to strive to really understand. Oh well, at least I am learning... Not all that fast but I know that I am not wasting all of my life anymore (just... most of it XD).

Perhaps my nomadic lifestyle did teach me not to take anything for granted. I was hoping that it would also teach me the ability to adapt to new cultures quickly, to not become too attached to a geographical location, and to always be willing to change my way of life for the better. You can argue that this is pointless, and that the way I grew up is the only reason why I feel that this is necessary. I don’t agree, thought. With the world being so prone to change – both good and bad – adaptability is key to survival. Us immigrants do have an advantage at that. And you know what? I’m actually not that great at it. It took me a long time to really adapt to the culture here. Adapting to China was slightly easier… it was more simple I guess, since I had a network of support. This need to challenge myself to adapt the play a part in my co-op choices, thought not really all that much. I was content that what I chose were consistent with this, and I had the chance to try and make contacts in different parts of the world.

Did I get what I wanted? Not quite. Sure, each time I accustomed myself to a new place, and it will be much easier for me to move there in the future if I have to. But I can’t exactly lie to myself, in both cases I practically ran away from a home: first time because it wasn’t really my home, but my parents, which was understandable; and the second time out of fear that I might mess things up doing something that I'm not ready for and arguably don't deserve. But I still yearn for a home – something that I can go back to, some kind of stability in this world. Perhaps I’m just too weak, so weak that this had split me: parts of me want me to make the world my home, and parts of me want something more stable.

Running away… I seem to have done so much of that in the past decade. A braver soul would have seen everything as a learning experience and would have said ‘yes’ to life. I am not brave, and each time I simply screamed and ran away. I don’t think I really learned from that. No, I definitely did not.

Is running away really the right way to see this? In my humble opinion, the reason one travels is to learn and to experience. The driving force should be a sense of seeking, a sense of wonder – not a desire to run away.

Having stepped back and reread what I wrote so far, I feel that the reason not having a ‘home’ was necessary for me was that I haven’t seen enough to make a real decision about the kind of home I really need. The kind of home I need, like many things, is directly related to how I want to live my life. Every time I wanted to settle down it was like life saying to me: no, not yet, you haven’t seen enough to know if that’s right for you! If I did settle down in China, for example, I will likely become yet another blind follower of Mao. (I know China is not THAT bad, but I am). If I stayed in Japan, god knows what would’ve happened. But now, after everything is said and done, I am getting close to the stage where I am ready to make a decision. I know now, for the most part, what principals should guide my life, how I can be happy. I’ve met the man whom I must try hard to live up to. What’s next but some form of stability, however elusive? Even a dandelion eventually settles down somewhere.

GOING HOME

There’s still quite a way to go, of course. I still intend to do an exchange to Germany, that’s still important. I might still take co-op jobs far away, but I’ll have to consider the opportunity cost in great details. I have a lot more to lose now if I take certain things for granted. In the end, what I need to learn is that to have something to lose is not a weakness, and that having something to I want to go back to isn’t going to make me less open minded (or more close-minded, if you so insist).

Finally creating a long deserved home shall be something I hope to accomplish in the next decade, if I don’t die before then. (Yes, I am fully aware that anything can happen in a decade. This is just a thought, or a guide at most.)

Let me end by saying that it’s been a great 20 years of being alive. I learned a lot, though I did not have the wisdom to absorb more. I appreciate life a lot more now; I hope that there will be many more decades of it to come, and that I get better at not wasting it.

End of Entry