Fear is human, it is a natural instinct. We have fear so we can protect ourselves, protect our off-springs, stay away from harm, stay away from the unknown, so we can survive. Somehow, I think, this natural instinct is consuming us and creating more psychological harm than protection for us to evolve.
New years eve. Monterey, California. After dinner, my parents and I slowly walk back to our hotel. My dad casually asked how work was going for me. He usually does, to which I usually talk about what I am working on and how tired I am. To which he usually responds "xin ku! xin ku!" which basically means "such hard work! work so hard!", which also means nothing. I don't know if he relates to my hard work? Or is he happy that I'm working hard? Does he know how hard I work? Is he encouraging me to work harder? I have no clue.
“I have no interest in climbing the corporate ladder further – at least not at Hyatt.” I said this time, blankly. I felt all the previous months of me talking about how crazy my travel schedules have been, how stressed I am have been leaving hints. Apparently not. “Why not? Just keep going.” He dismissed. I knew he was saying that because that’s what he wished he had done – he left his corporate post at a time when he could have progressed further if he just hung on tight, but he decided to do his own thing instead. At that very moment – I felt as if he wanted to me to finish the dream or complete the path he now probably wish he had.
I sighed. I continued to say that I was too tired, I wanted a break – I needed a break, to which he responded “How do you plan to do that?” I said, I wanted to take 6 months off. Time off. What I am experiencing is a burn-out. I am burned out. So burnt out in fact by constantly being "on" for work and school, that when I have some down time, I have early signs of Alzheimer's disease because my brain is so shut off.
The earlier instances were a year or two ago. Danny visited me one summer, it was a long weekend and very beautiful in Chicago. I was happy and relaxed the entire weekend, which basically means I don't think about a thing and my brain turns to mush. As we drove Danny to the airport, he made a comment "Chicago has so many nice restaurants." When he said that, for the life of me - I could not remember where we ate the whole weekend. In fact, I couldn't even remember where we had lunch earlier that day. "Where did we eat for lunch today?" Danny responded. Ten minutes later I forgot again, pure blank. I asked again. "Amy!" Danny exclaimed - it was like that time Senior year in college when we studied for our Wines final, which was mostly memorization for labels and laws and.... *yawn*... Danny would repeat things to me and back then I didn't bother remembering because I was thinking more about the fun side of wine tasting.
Since that summer these istances happen more frequently - funny that I remember these instances happen, but of course I don't remember the details. In fact, sometimes someone would say something about a restaurant, a place, an event, an activity, which sounds really fun. I would then comment to Eugene that we should do it. He would then respond "we've been there, remember?" "We have?" I ask, as I try so hard to sift through the "memory files" in my brain - it's like hitting Control F for a 10,000 page document and returns no results. "Really?" I'd ask in disbelief, because I cannot recall any sights, smell, people, etc... nothing. Eugene would then try to remind me "remember and you said this... and you did that....". Nope. "Hmm... well, did I like it?" I'd ask hoping that I did. "Yeah you did." Eugene responds, to which I then smile, content that I had a great experience and trusting his word since I can't remember shit. We then joke about movies like 50 First Dates or The Notebook - both stories are about chicks who lost their memory due to a car accident or being old, both tragic events. What's my tragic event? "Oh she worked too hard." *Roll eyes*.
"How do you plan to take 6 months off?" He asked again, this time looking at me. "You have to work." Thinking that I don't understand I cannot go to work and take time off at the same time. I said "I know, so I want to quit my job." He stopped walking and looked at me. The expression on his face changed instantly – the wrinkles on his face all twisted into one place, tilting his head to one side and continued in a tone of disbelief, impatience and annoyance. “Why are you always thinking about taking a break?” “Why not?” I protested. He looked down and sighed but remained quiet for a few seconds – I can sense that he is trying to be a good father, a good father as in he should try to listen and look at things from my perspective, but I can tell he’s clearly struggling. He continues “If you have a job, and it’s a stable job, why wouldn't you want to continue?” “How do you know it’s stable? I don’t think it’s stable – I don’t think there’s anything such as a stable job. Stability already means that things are starting to progress downhill but you just don’t feel it.” I continued. He remained quiet for a few more seconds while staring down at the ground. I can tell he and I both realized at that point that we are on parallel paths, that our values and perspectives are not converging and doesn't look like they will. He sighed and looked at me again and said “I just want you and Eugene to settle down, stop moving around so much, constantly switching jobs. You are 30 now, you need to think more long term.” “I am thinking long term,” I responded “I know I am turning 30 and this is exactly why I need to take a break now.” He looked down and started shaking his head. I didn't care and continued “I don’t want to look back on my life and all I ever do is work, never taking a break. I am 30 now, who knows I could continue to work for 30 more years! What’s 3 months or 6 months in the greater scheme of things? Nothing! Oh and if we start having babies later, then I'm doomed! I can’t even think about taking a break then!”
My dad continues “You can’t constantly have this attitude toward work that it’s annoying – and you want to run away from it when it gets annoying, or gets hard. Work will always be annoying. You just have to find a way to deal with it.” “What does ‘deal with it mean’?” I asked. “Do I just pretend I don’t feel anything? That I shouldn’t let things bother me?” “It means just do what you can within your abilities and just tell yourself that you can’t change the world.” He explained. This time I turned silent – our conversation was turning into one between a very religious person and a very unreligious one. "I refuse to settle and think like that – I’m only 30. If I just settle and think that I can’t make anything happen – I’ll be gone tomorrow. " I mumbled under my breath. I hated the fact that we just said my age, being 30, like 30 times in a conversation less than 30 minutes in.
"The world is very different now – I can’t just sit around thinking I'm there to just churn the wheel, even if that’s the truth I cannot think like that.” I continued, thinking how ironic it is that I am saying this to my dad rather than the other way around. My dad is becoming more and more impatient. He started waving his hand in my face saying “I don’t care about whether or not you want time off – you have to think about whether what you are doing is right or wrong.” “What is right? What is wrong?” I continued to protest. “What is considered the right thing to do?” He sighed again. I continued “I am not complaining about hard work, I am extremely hard working, I just want my work and my work environment to be more productive.” “I just don’t want you to have regrets – you might not have the same opportunity you have now.” He continued to raise his voice.
I know my dad has lived a life of many regrets – I know there are many things he wished he had done differently and he wished that I wouldn’t have the same regrets. When it comes to career, I know there were a few twists and turns at which he believes he could have made "better" decisions, to which I think he just wanted to make "different" decisions. At that very moment – I wished that we could jump into the future, or my future, so we can both see whether he is right or wrong. But I also had to understand that he is already now living in his "future" - and in his future he thinks some of his past decisions were not so good.
If I were to say "I just want to take a risk? What do I have to lose?" I think he would either explode with a heart attack hearing my naivity in disbelief, or he could explode with a heart attack because his heart aches so bad with all that he has "lost". At that moment, I chose not to say anything. I chose silence. "I'll think about it some more." I said after a few minutes. Deep down, I know my dad wants me to be happy - even if this pursuit of happiness of mine is becoming not so happy.
I went back to the hotel room I shared with my mom, while my dad chit chatted with his brother in another room. "I think I am going crazy." I said to my mom. My mom has always been like my career counselor, mostly because earlier on in my life she had always been the disciplinarian. My work ethics probably come from her. My dad on the other hand had always been more like my psychologist growing up, caring more about my emotional well-being - am I happy, do I feel good, am I having fun? Funny that over the past 15 years or so, my parents have actually switched. My dad, perhaps having had a lighter outlook on life earlier on wished that he had thought deeper about certain decisions, while my mom - having worked very hard, thoroughly and meticulously her whole life, is now approaching retirement and has lightened up. "No you are not crazy, you just sound conflicted." My mom said as she went about her usual tasks in the hotel room, such as peeling an orange - I don't think Chinese families can ever live without fruit or dragging fruit around. We drove 2 hours from San Francisco down to Monterey - to prepare for the 2 hour journey my uncle bought 10 apples, 10 oranges and 10 pears. There are 4 of us, 2 hours. Why?? I can't eat apples and pears because I'm allergic and I hate peeling oranges.
"How do I sound conflicted?" I asked. "Well you tell your dad that you are not lazy, you don't want to settle just sitting there not doing anything... And then you also tell him you want to quit." I think she has a point - although I actually don't care if my dad agrees with my perspective or not. I know it's hard to convince people, I do it at work everyday so I didn't want to think about it on vacation. "I think you should just take the time off you need - you think you need 6 months? Do it, try to plan it out - how you plan to do it, what happens after it, think of the scenarios during it and after it - so you know that you tried to make your time off worth it."
To my surprise, my mom continues to explain to me how she empathises with me, she understands how I feel. She said it's realizing the world will always have you chasing after something - a better opportunity, a better job, better pay, better house, better car, better electronics, better look, better promises... the promise of something better is there if you just chase it. During the chase you only think that is important, not anything else you've left behind in the rear view mirror. Perhaps more importantly than knowing what I want, is what I don't want - what can I say no to. She said she realized this when she turned 50 - she's surprised that I've hit this point when I'm 30, or maybe not since the world is changing at exponential speed. This might be the opportunity for me to make more conscious decisions, even though, as mentioned in Eat, Pray, Love, "I have actively participated in every step of my life thus far." Or so I thought.
Our parents teach us fear early on - don't touch that it's hot, don't do that or you'll get hurt. Completely understandable otherwise we'd be physically dead before we even hit 30. What about mentally and emotionally? We are also naturally wired to be afraid of not knowing the unknown - so we knowingly, or unknowingly, participate in continuing what we know. Perhaps so much of what has taken place in the last century have mostly been uncertainty, unknown, unsure, unsafe, unsecure - two world wars and wars continue, there's still poverty, and people continue to sacrafice their lives in pursuit of a better life. When we have the luxury of "knowing the know" - why would we walk away from it? This I think I'll address in a later entry as I'm tired of writing this one.
What I have probably so poorly tried to describe is something that most people have actually experienced and a lot of people are now talking about. Or maybe I've reached the age that people tend to start thinking about this. Regardless, it's amazing what it feels like when it happens to you, or me, in this case. Considering for the past 20+ years of my life, I have known every very next step I have to take or even 5 steps after that - I am actually perfectly fine now not knowing what I'll do during my 6 months off or even after that. Call it quarter-life crisis, or being unappreciative of what I have, or luxury dilemmas of the developed world, whatever it is - I think, I am, at peace, for now, with the unknown.
New years eve. Monterey, California. After dinner, my parents and I slowly walk back to our hotel. My dad casually asked how work was going for me. He usually does, to which I usually talk about what I am working on and how tired I am. To which he usually responds "xin ku! xin ku!" which basically means "such hard work! work so hard!", which also means nothing. I don't know if he relates to my hard work? Or is he happy that I'm working hard? Does he know how hard I work? Is he encouraging me to work harder? I have no clue.
“I have no interest in climbing the corporate ladder further – at least not at Hyatt.” I said this time, blankly. I felt all the previous months of me talking about how crazy my travel schedules have been, how stressed I am have been leaving hints. Apparently not. “Why not? Just keep going.” He dismissed. I knew he was saying that because that’s what he wished he had done – he left his corporate post at a time when he could have progressed further if he just hung on tight, but he decided to do his own thing instead. At that very moment – I felt as if he wanted to me to finish the dream or complete the path he now probably wish he had.
I sighed. I continued to say that I was too tired, I wanted a break – I needed a break, to which he responded “How do you plan to do that?” I said, I wanted to take 6 months off. Time off. What I am experiencing is a burn-out. I am burned out. So burnt out in fact by constantly being "on" for work and school, that when I have some down time, I have early signs of Alzheimer's disease because my brain is so shut off.
The earlier instances were a year or two ago. Danny visited me one summer, it was a long weekend and very beautiful in Chicago. I was happy and relaxed the entire weekend, which basically means I don't think about a thing and my brain turns to mush. As we drove Danny to the airport, he made a comment "Chicago has so many nice restaurants." When he said that, for the life of me - I could not remember where we ate the whole weekend. In fact, I couldn't even remember where we had lunch earlier that day. "Where did we eat for lunch today?" Danny responded. Ten minutes later I forgot again, pure blank. I asked again. "Amy!" Danny exclaimed - it was like that time Senior year in college when we studied for our Wines final, which was mostly memorization for labels and laws and.... *yawn*... Danny would repeat things to me and back then I didn't bother remembering because I was thinking more about the fun side of wine tasting.
Since that summer these istances happen more frequently - funny that I remember these instances happen, but of course I don't remember the details. In fact, sometimes someone would say something about a restaurant, a place, an event, an activity, which sounds really fun. I would then comment to Eugene that we should do it. He would then respond "we've been there, remember?" "We have?" I ask, as I try so hard to sift through the "memory files" in my brain - it's like hitting Control F for a 10,000 page document and returns no results. "Really?" I'd ask in disbelief, because I cannot recall any sights, smell, people, etc... nothing. Eugene would then try to remind me "remember and you said this... and you did that....". Nope. "Hmm... well, did I like it?" I'd ask hoping that I did. "Yeah you did." Eugene responds, to which I then smile, content that I had a great experience and trusting his word since I can't remember shit. We then joke about movies like 50 First Dates or The Notebook - both stories are about chicks who lost their memory due to a car accident or being old, both tragic events. What's my tragic event? "Oh she worked too hard." *Roll eyes*.
"How do you plan to take 6 months off?" He asked again, this time looking at me. "You have to work." Thinking that I don't understand I cannot go to work and take time off at the same time. I said "I know, so I want to quit my job." He stopped walking and looked at me. The expression on his face changed instantly – the wrinkles on his face all twisted into one place, tilting his head to one side and continued in a tone of disbelief, impatience and annoyance. “Why are you always thinking about taking a break?” “Why not?” I protested. He looked down and sighed but remained quiet for a few seconds – I can sense that he is trying to be a good father, a good father as in he should try to listen and look at things from my perspective, but I can tell he’s clearly struggling. He continues “If you have a job, and it’s a stable job, why wouldn't you want to continue?” “How do you know it’s stable? I don’t think it’s stable – I don’t think there’s anything such as a stable job. Stability already means that things are starting to progress downhill but you just don’t feel it.” I continued. He remained quiet for a few more seconds while staring down at the ground. I can tell he and I both realized at that point that we are on parallel paths, that our values and perspectives are not converging and doesn't look like they will. He sighed and looked at me again and said “I just want you and Eugene to settle down, stop moving around so much, constantly switching jobs. You are 30 now, you need to think more long term.” “I am thinking long term,” I responded “I know I am turning 30 and this is exactly why I need to take a break now.” He looked down and started shaking his head. I didn't care and continued “I don’t want to look back on my life and all I ever do is work, never taking a break. I am 30 now, who knows I could continue to work for 30 more years! What’s 3 months or 6 months in the greater scheme of things? Nothing! Oh and if we start having babies later, then I'm doomed! I can’t even think about taking a break then!”
My dad continues “You can’t constantly have this attitude toward work that it’s annoying – and you want to run away from it when it gets annoying, or gets hard. Work will always be annoying. You just have to find a way to deal with it.” “What does ‘deal with it mean’?” I asked. “Do I just pretend I don’t feel anything? That I shouldn’t let things bother me?” “It means just do what you can within your abilities and just tell yourself that you can’t change the world.” He explained. This time I turned silent – our conversation was turning into one between a very religious person and a very unreligious one. "I refuse to settle and think like that – I’m only 30. If I just settle and think that I can’t make anything happen – I’ll be gone tomorrow. " I mumbled under my breath. I hated the fact that we just said my age, being 30, like 30 times in a conversation less than 30 minutes in.
"The world is very different now – I can’t just sit around thinking I'm there to just churn the wheel, even if that’s the truth I cannot think like that.” I continued, thinking how ironic it is that I am saying this to my dad rather than the other way around. My dad is becoming more and more impatient. He started waving his hand in my face saying “I don’t care about whether or not you want time off – you have to think about whether what you are doing is right or wrong.” “What is right? What is wrong?” I continued to protest. “What is considered the right thing to do?” He sighed again. I continued “I am not complaining about hard work, I am extremely hard working, I just want my work and my work environment to be more productive.” “I just don’t want you to have regrets – you might not have the same opportunity you have now.” He continued to raise his voice.
I know my dad has lived a life of many regrets – I know there are many things he wished he had done differently and he wished that I wouldn’t have the same regrets. When it comes to career, I know there were a few twists and turns at which he believes he could have made "better" decisions, to which I think he just wanted to make "different" decisions. At that very moment – I wished that we could jump into the future, or my future, so we can both see whether he is right or wrong. But I also had to understand that he is already now living in his "future" - and in his future he thinks some of his past decisions were not so good.
If I were to say "I just want to take a risk? What do I have to lose?" I think he would either explode with a heart attack hearing my naivity in disbelief, or he could explode with a heart attack because his heart aches so bad with all that he has "lost". At that moment, I chose not to say anything. I chose silence. "I'll think about it some more." I said after a few minutes. Deep down, I know my dad wants me to be happy - even if this pursuit of happiness of mine is becoming not so happy.
I went back to the hotel room I shared with my mom, while my dad chit chatted with his brother in another room. "I think I am going crazy." I said to my mom. My mom has always been like my career counselor, mostly because earlier on in my life she had always been the disciplinarian. My work ethics probably come from her. My dad on the other hand had always been more like my psychologist growing up, caring more about my emotional well-being - am I happy, do I feel good, am I having fun? Funny that over the past 15 years or so, my parents have actually switched. My dad, perhaps having had a lighter outlook on life earlier on wished that he had thought deeper about certain decisions, while my mom - having worked very hard, thoroughly and meticulously her whole life, is now approaching retirement and has lightened up. "No you are not crazy, you just sound conflicted." My mom said as she went about her usual tasks in the hotel room, such as peeling an orange - I don't think Chinese families can ever live without fruit or dragging fruit around. We drove 2 hours from San Francisco down to Monterey - to prepare for the 2 hour journey my uncle bought 10 apples, 10 oranges and 10 pears. There are 4 of us, 2 hours. Why?? I can't eat apples and pears because I'm allergic and I hate peeling oranges.
"How do I sound conflicted?" I asked. "Well you tell your dad that you are not lazy, you don't want to settle just sitting there not doing anything... And then you also tell him you want to quit." I think she has a point - although I actually don't care if my dad agrees with my perspective or not. I know it's hard to convince people, I do it at work everyday so I didn't want to think about it on vacation. "I think you should just take the time off you need - you think you need 6 months? Do it, try to plan it out - how you plan to do it, what happens after it, think of the scenarios during it and after it - so you know that you tried to make your time off worth it."
To my surprise, my mom continues to explain to me how she empathises with me, she understands how I feel. She said it's realizing the world will always have you chasing after something - a better opportunity, a better job, better pay, better house, better car, better electronics, better look, better promises... the promise of something better is there if you just chase it. During the chase you only think that is important, not anything else you've left behind in the rear view mirror. Perhaps more importantly than knowing what I want, is what I don't want - what can I say no to. She said she realized this when she turned 50 - she's surprised that I've hit this point when I'm 30, or maybe not since the world is changing at exponential speed. This might be the opportunity for me to make more conscious decisions, even though, as mentioned in Eat, Pray, Love, "I have actively participated in every step of my life thus far." Or so I thought.
Our parents teach us fear early on - don't touch that it's hot, don't do that or you'll get hurt. Completely understandable otherwise we'd be physically dead before we even hit 30. What about mentally and emotionally? We are also naturally wired to be afraid of not knowing the unknown - so we knowingly, or unknowingly, participate in continuing what we know. Perhaps so much of what has taken place in the last century have mostly been uncertainty, unknown, unsure, unsafe, unsecure - two world wars and wars continue, there's still poverty, and people continue to sacrafice their lives in pursuit of a better life. When we have the luxury of "knowing the know" - why would we walk away from it? This I think I'll address in a later entry as I'm tired of writing this one.
What I have probably so poorly tried to describe is something that most people have actually experienced and a lot of people are now talking about. Or maybe I've reached the age that people tend to start thinking about this. Regardless, it's amazing what it feels like when it happens to you, or me, in this case. Considering for the past 20+ years of my life, I have known every very next step I have to take or even 5 steps after that - I am actually perfectly fine now not knowing what I'll do during my 6 months off or even after that. Call it quarter-life crisis, or being unappreciative of what I have, or luxury dilemmas of the developed world, whatever it is - I think, I am, at peace, for now, with the unknown.
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