On parents

Finishing my 14 Fl. Oz chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with warm Lipton tea. You would think it would taste nasty, but it's quite delightful.

The week that passed has given me insight on what parents, particularly Asian parents, want to see from their kids. I realized during parent and teacher conferences that most parents just look at grades. At first, I allowed the parent to look at the grading sheet I had, thinking they were mature enough not to look at other students' grades. Of course, I was wrong. All Asian parents have this need to compare their students to others; they want their daughter or son to be smarter than everyone else. While other ethnicities have a tendency to be concerned only on how their children are doing.

However, as a teacher (at least for the summer), I realized that this isn't a competition as most people make it out to be. Yes, if you excel in class, it means that you're smart, but it isn't about that; it's more about the learning experience.

I rather have all my students earn 90s and higher as long as I know they're learning rather than give them hard tests to have some fail and some pass. That is not the purpose of a teacher. Grades aren't for the student, it's for parents.

Additionally, I didn't even realize it, but I fell into the norm. Teach directly and not interactively. I'm scared that I am the first of many standard teachers, pushing the idea that learning is boring and that there is only one answer to everything. I rather promote divergent thinking and creativity; I rather be an aberrant teacher.

....maybe teaching isn't so far off my radar after all.

I would like to be somebody's #1 priority

I was on Jonathan Carroll's blog looking for a poem to describe how I feel right now and he put up one today:

Bird-Understander

by Craig Arnold

Of the many reasons I love you here is one

the way you write to me from the gate at the airport
so I can tell you everything will be alright

so you can tell me there is a bird
trapped in the terminal all the people
ignoring it because they do not know
what to do with it except to leave it alone
until it scares itself to death

it makes you terribly terribly sad

You wish you could take the bird outside
and set it free or (failing that)
call a bird-understander
to come help the bird

All you can do is notice the bird
and feel for the bird and write
to tell me how language feels
impossibly useless

but you are wrong

You are a bird-understander
better than I could ever be
who make so many noises
and call them song

These are your own words
your way of noticing
and saying plainly
of not turning away
from hurt

you have offered them
to me I am only
giving them back

if only I could show you
how very useless
they are not

Why do you do what you do to me

Back to Basics

"I need to put up with two or three caterpillars if I want to get to know the butterflies. Apparently they're very beautiful. Otherwise who will visit me? You'll be far away. As for the big animals, I'm not afraid of them. I have my own claws." And she naively showed her four thorns. Then she added, "Don't hang around like this; it's irritating. You made up your mind to leave. Now go."

For she didn't want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower...

When I bought The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery, I told Joann that this book has the answers to my problems. And it does.

I realize that I have already repressed memories of you, like I do with others, and it's tragic that you couldn't give me a chance to get to know you and that you couldn't give yourself a chance to get to know me.

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Reading books and watching movies meant for kids returns me to the person I once hoped for. It's sort of like attending Sunday mass, a constant reminder of what's important.

Yesterday, I was sitting in the sanctuary with the kids, watching Meeting the Robinsons again, and I was so overcome with emotion. At the end, Little Wonders by Rob Thomas came on and I started to cry (I know I'm such a cry baby):

Let it go
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists and turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours
These small hours
Still remain

When you're young, events are harsh and the present can be unsettling, but the future, the future is unimaginable. We go through turmoil and failure so that we can earn what we have in the future.

Another from Jonathan Carroll's Blog

AFTER AWHILE
By Veronica Shoffstall

After a while, you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and
chaining a soul. You learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company
doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents
aren't promises. You begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead –
with the grace of an adult and not the grief of a child.

You learn to build all your roads on today, because tomorrow's
ground is too uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling
down in mid-flight.

After awhile, you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So, you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure, that you really are strong.
And you really do have worth. And you learn .....
And you learn. With every goodbye, you learn.

Even though, it hurts, I'm relieved. No more games. No more hoping.

It's just me and my aspirations from now on.

"One of the most difficult things about teaching is the lack of closure in so many areas. We plant; we water; we plant, and we water day after day, week after week. And, sometimes the new growth doesn't pop out of the soil no matter how we counsel the student. Some things take more time than others; some students mature slower; and other students harden their hearts and refuse to grow."

When I read this for devotion, I agreed wholeheartedly. I remember when there were little kids I had to talk to and work with personally because they needed the attention. I'm the type of person who typically lacks patience; when I really want something, I'll go out of my way to get it. However, when I see a troubled youngster, I go out of my way to help them. Because even though I may never see the fruits of my labor, as a teacher, even a summer camp teacher, I'm still a stepping stone.

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When I was younger, I acted out; all I wanted was someone to pay attention to me. Though, I never disrupted a class, I desired a teacher to realize how much potential I had; I needed someone to believe in me. Even now, I still feel like I'm searching for that teacher to realize that I'm someone worthy of being taught.

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When I read the quote above, it also crossed my mind that this could also apply to loving someone. If I ever love someone more than they love me, albeit one-sided, if I just keep loving them, perhaps they'll grow. And even if they don't grow for me, even if the time isn't right and I may end up with a broken heart, wouldn't it be better to soften their hearts for the next person who might be the right one for them? Couldn't I be a stepping stone in this case too, insignificant but necessary?

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My feelings are simple. My actions not so much.

In yo face

The waves slapping against the shore and the seagulls high in the sky, soft curved M's, and the damp sand where I'll sink into, this is where I want to be the most right now. Where the clouds will hide away the sun and leave me in this perpetual state of gray.

A part of the reason is because I want to be somewhere serene and yet not so sanguine; I don't want beautiful right now. Another part of the reason is because that was one of the places where I felt most at rest with you.

And it's okay. It's okay to feel like this. And it's okay. It's okay because the future holds no bounds. And it's okay. It's okay because there will always be something to look forward to.

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You asked me if I was waiting for marriage. I replied that I was waiting for the right guy. I can't say that I have any sort of checklist for the right guy. I can't say that I want all these qualities in him. In fact, I don't even know who the right guy is. However, I think it must be someone who's waiting for the right girl too.

Because I know, I am the right girl.

I cannot wait

until the weight of you is in my arms. Your knees pressed against my breast and your butt puckered out; your head in the nook of my neck and your cheek resting on my shoulder. I cannot wait until I can watch your eyelashes flutter as you dream or when your tiny hand clutches my finger. I will pour every ounce of my being into loving and protecting you because I am all yours and you are all mine.

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The sun glints off of skyscraper windows, nuggets of Fool's Gold, and I wish to collect them in my hands and press them against my cold cheek.

Jonathan Carroll's blog

CarrollBlog 5.29

There are always moments when one feels empty and estranged.
Such moments are most desirable,
for it means the soul has cast its moorings and is sailing for distant places.
This is detachment—
when the old is over and the new has not yet come.
If you are afraid, the state may be distressing,
but there is really nothing to be afraid of.
Remember the instruction:
Whatever you come across—
go beyond."

Nisargadatta Maharaj

I miss those days where my thoughts meant something or led somewhere, where I was trying to look for something without actually looking for it. This usually happens at school and when I graduate, I have no clue as to where and when I'll be thinking again.

From Jonathan Carroll's blog:

from “Target”
by Jason Koo

Oh you out there not in love,
I know how it is, when you wake up in the morning and look down
at your body like an émigré looking back
Disgustedly at his homeland; when you peer through the blinds
and the world is nothing but a grey side;
When you feel each day is a dart flung at a target you keep missing
because who, or where, or what is the target?
The soul cannot live like this, the soul needs a cable, a clasp, its talons
are hungry for a peak, there’s too much space
And it’s thinning out like smoke: you step out of the furrow of the future
onto an asphalt present. Worse, there’s
A whiff of sin about you, because not to be in love with a person
should never stop you from being
In love with the world: and the problem is you’ve fallen out of love
with the world. You’ve come to hear
An underlying Goddamit! in everything, and never notice the trees
tossing their heads in the wind like conductors.

It gets tiring

being lonely.

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I've lost my touch. Be my muse?

Sometimes I think about how much I wish I could speak to my mom. Just once so that I could ask her what she liked and what she didn't. To understand which parts of me come from her.

But on Sunday, as I was sitting next to my mom's mom, my mom's sister and her daughter, I realized I don't have to yearn for her so much. There's so much of her right here.

Day 10- I really wanted Brazil to win

I have a poster that contains all these quotes about love and at the top, in big letters, it asks, "What is love?"

It's funny how there are so many interpretations about love when the essence of love should be the same. At the corner, there are blank lines that I filled in when I was dating Victor, 8 years ago. One of the things I wrote was: Lust drains you while love awakens you.

I know it's sort of obvious or cheesy, but it's true. Lust has this way of making you want something that's not filling, like junk food. You're chewing on emptiness so that you're never satiated and you're never genuinely happy. Love is everything that lust can't provide. It revives you; it breathes life back into you--at least in theory.

Things are up in the air and I can't deny that I'm excited, though I should be more wary.

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My body starts buzzing with heat when I do my meditations now. Freaking weird.

I was reading about tummo, this Tibetan Buddhist meditation, where monks can heat up their body to the point where they feel nothing when in ice water. Apparently, you can even see steam rise from when they heat sheets up on their backs that were doused in ice water.

Naruto can suck on them apples.

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I told my dad I love Kaka and that I will only marry him. He smirked and told me to "get out of here".

Week 2-Day 9

When I return home, even when I'm feeling angry or upset, I suddenly feel calmer and more sensible. Maybe it's my head playing tricks on me or maybe it's the quartz. Who knows.

Today at training, I was surprised at how many atheists were singing along to the worship. Wilson was singing behind me in his hoarse voice and it made me realize how strong music can be. There's something about Christian music that makes you want to give yourself up to Him. For me, it's in those moments, when the singer's voice is strong and high, that I am truly moved.

I missed this feeling; this feeling of exhaustion.