heart beats

Traveling again, especially to less developed countries, makes COVID seem like an episode of the Twilight Zone or Black Mirror. While some still wear masks, most are doing so to protect from the smog and pollution, especially when the primary mode of transportation is motorbikes. While many in my circle, including myself, contracted COVID, with some, as many as four+ times, luckily, none passed away from it.

But what will never fully be quantified will be the deaths that occurred because of COVID's impact in the world, from logistics/economy (e.g., overtaxed medical system, inability to get food and resources to those in need due to transportation and/or financial constraints) to mental health (e.g., depression, broken relationships, stress). The huge demand for emotional support animals also resulted in the unfortunate abandonment of such furry friends when life adjusted to a new normal, ranging from an increase of 25% in places like England to 50% in India. 

At the same time, in a country where animals were generally kept for functional purposes (e.g., security or rodent management), I was surprised and elated to see how pets are now being treated in Vietnam, with a significant increase in pet clinics/veterinarians, groomers, boarders, and even cat cafes for people to pay to spend time with the kitties. Walking past a Vietnamese man sitting on a little stool at a local street cafe cuddling and talking to his canine pal made my heart smile. Of course, the experience made me think of baby girl, followed by the excitement of the imminent adoption of her kin.

While I had wished I had captured the loving scene for my IG stories (a new way to catalog my travels), I was happy to just be present. Seeing an IG message from an old high school friend, who had shared that she had been enjoying my travel 'stories', I was saddened to hear the passing of my prom 'date' the day before. He had died of a heart attack in his sleep. He marks the third man in my circle and age group, with the other two being college classmates, who have been victims of the leading cause of deaths in the US since the start of the pandemic. Another close friend who was a surrogate father at a point in my life also succumbed to the disease; however, he was older and had a history battling the disease.

Unlike with the 'surrogate father', there was no warning, and perhaps with the stresses of the pandemic, it became the silent killer that we can't prepare for. When I had gotten word that Jay (22 and 11:11 (part 10)) passed right before Christmas 2020, intermixed with the initial shock was a smile and a knowing that Jay had beat us all in accomplishing his life's dream, that kept us up late at night for hours just connecting and talking about all the complexities of life. I knew that where I may have missed my initial train (11:11 (part 10)), Jay made his. I still feel Jay with me at times, as recently as saudade (part 6).

I knew that most news happen in Facebook, so upon hearing the news about my prom 'date', I temporarily reinstated Facebook, something I had deleted since the pandemic, to find that the news of his passing had not made it there yet. However, it was with a happy yet saudade heart that I soon discovered that he recently got married in December 2022. We weren't really in contact since high school, as I left a lot of that trauma behind for me. But when I had joined Facebook in late 2008, he found me and had messaged me to see how I was doing. We must have kept in touch sporadically after that as I have his contact information. In looking at our Facebook messenger chat, the next and last time we had contact was before the pandemic, when I had sent him a YouTube video on 'Twin Flames/Soulmates/Divine Partners - Searching For Answers', it must have been in response to a post he had as my intro was 'this may help you'.

As with Jay, I knew Steven had finally realized his dream. Much like Helen in Sliding Doors, he met his boo. He had struggled so long to come out of the closet and find 'home'. It seems fitting that it is also Pride Month, which although there still isn't a parade in Ho Chi Minh City to commemorate it, there are more visible signs including companies supporting and sponsoring activities around the city. It brings me such peace to know that for all of these men in my life, they were surrounded by love when their hearts stopped beating.

* * * * *

Update August 20, 2023:

At the age of 33, her heart also stopped in the middle of the night. As a pre-teen, she was diagnosed with long QT syndrome that caused her parents to pull her out of soccer which she loved. As an adult, she made the decision to live life and not let the condition debilitate her. Skydiving for her was not only defying gravity but also her genetic predisposition. She forgave easily and loved fully. Her family gifted me her last creation that had a special meaning to her, from the careful curation of the gemstones for their meaning and her favorite colors to her spirit animal that contain three hearts and nine brains, one in each tentacle and the biggest brain-to-body ratio of the invertebrates, making it one of the most intelligent marine species.

My Octopus Teacher brought us into their worlds, showing us the ability for these colorful creatures to form relationships with humans. While known to be solitary creatures, scientists are recently discovering the complexity of their ability to form relationships among themselves, utilizing colors to communicate, and with other species. In one experiment, four octopi were given MDMA, and despite serotonin transporters nearly identical to humans, scientists had hypothesized that its lack of the parts of the brain that results in behavioral changes from drug use would override, negating any impacts. They were surprised to see that the octopi were all cuddly.

This behavior has usually only been observed during mating, which marks the beginning of senescence and their eventual deaths. The female spends over six months guarding her thousands of eggs, unable to catch prey to nourish herself, slowing starving herself and with her last breath, uses her siphon to blow the hatchlings into their new world.

In her own way, Jessica left those she loved with parts of herself that will guide them to their new 'world'. I finished her special mala today before her memorial service. After cleansing and charging the energy in the moonlight, I set the intention of the mala to live fully and love wholeheartedly. While already on the journey of carpe diem and 11:11 (part 4), I know along with Jay, Jess will guide me towards the remainder of my journey.

saudade (part 3)

Death is an interesting thing. For many of us, we spend our entire lives fearing it. For some of us, we seem to think it will reunite us with our 'forever person'. Perhaps that is why there are countless stories about elderly couples or family members who die shortly after the other, called the 'broken heart syndrome'. Think Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds or June Carter and Johnny Cash. Todd Fisher, Reynold's son, noted that she had said she wanted to be with Carrie, but clarified that rather from a broken heart, she had chosen to be with her daughter as she didn't want Carrie to be alone.

"The spirit of June Carter overshadows me tonight with the love she had for me and the love I have for her. We connect somewhere between here and Heaven. She came down for a short visit, I guess, from Heaven to visit with me tonight to give me courage and inspiration like she always has. She's never been one for me except courage and inspiration. I thank God for June Carter. I lover her with all my heart."

~ Johnny Cash (July 5, 2003) 

During my time on this island, death seems to be a reminder of the cycle of life. Today, the current owner of a property that my friend/roommate is purchasing had to put her Cleo down. Cleo was so spritely when I met her at a dinner party a couple of weeks ago. About to start a new adventure in Oahu, she was her mistress' companion and a connection to a past that she was going to leave behind...only to now leave her mistress to venture on her own.

And then for a small minority, we see it as salvation from unbearable pain. My roommate learned last week while we were at the Magic Sands Beach in Kona that his friend had an episode and committed suicide. They had just spoken the day it happened, which serves as a very potent reminder that we never know what is going on with others no matter how close we think we are to them.

Yoon Se-Ri was a reminder to her stepmother (Han Jeong-yeon) of her failure as a woman and wife, blaming herself for her husband's affair. For the longest time, I was convinced that I was my father's 'love child' from his military days as some rationalization to what appeared to be my mother's 'hatred' for me (full circle (part 3)).

"Ever since that day, there's a chilling night sea in my heart. And the sun never shines on that sea. No matter how many times I counted, the sun never showed up. And you never came back.

Ever since then, one thought lingered in my mind...'Why did I come to this world and turn my mom's life into a living hell? It would've been better had I not been born. I feel sorry for breathing." 

~ Yoon Se-Ri (CLoY - Episode  12)

Se-Ri went to Switzerland in search of assisted suicide (CLoY - Episode 2), feeling as she had no home to return to. In Episode 9, she shares with Ri Jeong-Hyeok when they realize that the song that she heard on the lake that kept her alive was one he wrote and played on the piano while waiting for his transport.

"That day, I was really lonely. I truly wished to die then. I wanted to go to a beautiful place and quietly disappear so I didn't trouble anybody. That's why I went there [Iseltwald on Lake Brienz]. But you were ... there. Even when you didn't know it, you saved my life."

Many believe that those who choose to take their own lives are selfish, and perhaps in some way, not wanting to be thought of as a selfish person was one reason why I didn't go through with it (code of silence (#sue, #secretsociety123)). 

"You know the thing about suicide...you don't just kill yourself. You kill every memory of you. This will be all everyone remembers, Jamie. Every second you spend on this Earth will be reduced to how you chose to leave it. No one will mourn your loss, son, because this isn't losing your life. This is quitting it. 

... I won't let you. Because it's selfish! It's the single most selfish thing a person can do!

Your grandfather used to say that you can't fix a broken wagon wheel. But you can use the parts to make a new one."

~ John Dutton (Yellowstone - Season 2, Episode 7) 

Having been on both sides of this coin, I think that the expanse between those struggling mentally and those like Dutton et al. can be too wide a gap to bridge in some instances. I often hear the living postulating why the person didn't seek help or give any indications of their situation. Yet, in many cases, they do or did. Sometimes it is ignored, sometimes it is minimized or often times, I think people just don't want or know how to deal with it, hoping someone else is stepping in.

Aren't those blaming the person for being selfish in reality the selfish ones? Aren't they hoping the person stays alive for their own sake, at the cost of the pain and anguish of the individual? We don't want them to die so that we don't have to deal with grief and loss as we go about our everyday lives. Yet, we haven't stepped into the shoes of that person's everyday life to understand the suffering, the voices, the hallucinations and the loneliness. As with Se-Ri, death seems like a solution to not continue to burden those you love.

While the stepmother left Se-Ri alone on the beach (saudade (part 2)), she couldn't have been too far away as she somehow had observed Se-Ri counting (CLoY - Episode 4). While the sun may not have been visible to Se-Ri, the sun was reflecting on the moon as the light in the sky. Similar to Se-Ri, birthdays were a source of unhappy memories for me (full circle (part 6)). Although I have recently tried to change the energy by finding a new experience every birthday (with new templates...the party continues), the taint still lingers like survivor's guilt after 9/11 (carpe diem).

"Next year, the year after that, and even the one after that, will all be good. Because I'll be thinking about you. I'll be grateful that you were born into this world. I'll be grateful that the person I love is still breathing. That's why your birthday will always be a good day."

~ Ri Jeong-Hyeok (CLoY - Episode 12)

No longer having social media to remind people of birthdays has significantly reduced the birthday wishes to a handful of friends and family. As an annual ritual, I'm not sure that he (moments that matter (part 6)) is grateful that I was born but at least for a brief moment, someone is thinking about me.

Whether it was in Switzerland on the piano or in the market place with a candle (saudade (part 2)), Jeong-Hyeok represented the sun on the sea when there was the cry, silent or not. Sometimes it is being in the right place, at the right time. While one may have taken the wrong train (to infinity and beyond), it turns out to be the right train for one to be on for someone else (hug it out). What we may rationalize as pure coincidence is the interconnectedness of the university, with a single point of infinite density and time continuum. Se-Ri echoed that time in my life ...

"Back then, I didn't want to live. I thought it'd be nice to spend my final moments in a place with beautiful scenery. But during the trip, I realized that I did not want to die. I just didn't want to live. I just needed some consolation. I'd never live the kind of life where I could be loved by those whom I love, but I still wanted to hear someone say that I could live and that I must keep on living.

And right at that moment, that melody started playing as if it was the answer to my prayer. 'You can live. You must get through this.' It gave me solace."

~ Yoon Se-Ri (CLoY - Episode 7) 

Listening to her memorial service today, the Jewish have a tradition that helps provide closures for the living. As the casket is lowered, it is an opportunity for one to either ask for forgiveness or to forgive for any unresolved hurts. For those who felt she was selfish, that would be a time for them to forgive her and know that she is no longer suffering.

"I'll see you around if fate allows."

~ Gu Seung-jun  (CLoY - Episode 4)

chimera

The Temple is a sacred place within Black Rock City and is said to represent the 'soul' of Burning Man, located at 12 o'clock. It was first constructed in 2000, originally as an art installation that then turned into a commemoration for a fellow burner who helped build the Temple of the Mind and died from a motorcycle accident on the way to Burning Man. Setting it up into flames marks the end of Burning Man, and for many, the end of debilitating aspects of their lives whether certain behaviors, certain people or certain memories or new beginnings with rituals, ceremonies and weddings.

The Temple of Direction was designed by Geordie Van Der Bosch, in collaboration with a number of artists for the lighting and seating arrangements. It represents the passage of life from beginning to middle to end. Some bring offerings, letters and tokens to burn. Even those who are not able to attend the burn, send such offerings and letters to friends and family to leave at the Temple on their behalf. 

During the week, thousands visit the Temple to connect, remember, reflect and renew themselves with loved ones who have left this dimension and/or with others who are there to share love and support each other. While the energy during the burning of the man is electric, the energy from the burning of the Temple has its own magnetic energy of serenity. The silence is as deafening, if not more so than the cheers when the man toppled. The Temple in its position at the top of the clock in deep playa is a stark contrast to the rest of the festivities.

Metamorphosis was the theme for 2019. For many in my circle, 2019 has been a challenge for individuals and relationships in many varying ways.  I have been told that experiences are amplified on the playa. It is a place that makes or breaks relationships, for example. A friend theorized that it is the heat that puts everyone in a heightened state. However, having experienced the energy on the playa, I believe there is an energetic vortex and magic that is embodied from the collective conscience of almost 80,000 individuals, gathered in one place. We did ceremonies to leave behind limiting beliefs and parts of us  or people that no longer served us. It was also at the Temple that friends got engaged.

Some biologists believe in the Death and Resurrection Theory of certain species like caterpillars and butterflies whereby two animals share a DNA molecule but one dies and dissolves within the chrysalis, and the same (imaginal) cells reincarnates into a different animal altogether. Two different sets of genetic instructions, resulting in two different organisms.

The burning of the Temple represents the chrysalis and the death of one life or letting go of things that no longer serve them and reincarnation of a new beginning upon return to the 'default world'. While the first mass exodus is after the man burns, more than half stay to watch their intentions sealed up, never to return and go up in flames...their final forgiveness of self.

"Awakening is not a thing. It is not a goal, not a concept. It is not something to be attained. It is a metamorphosis. If the caterpillar thinks about the butterfly it is to become, saying ‘And then I shall have wings and antennae,’ there will never be a butterfly. The caterpillar must accept its own disappearance in its transformation. When the marvelous butterfly takes wing, nothing of the caterpillar remains."

~ Alejandro Jodorowsky 

boom of the 'shrooms

a woman's kimono permanently burnt into her body

Today marks the 72nd anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. In 2012 while I was visiting Japan, we had decided spontaneously to make a day trip to Hiroshima on July 1. The museum documenting one of the most disastrous civilian repercussions of wartime is the most impactful one I have visited. I have only learned about the event through the eyes of the American history books, and had not known that Project Manhattan had originally targeted Germany, but with the timing of Germany's surrender, the U.S. leaders made a decision to use the bombs that they had been developing on an alternative target.

There are different perspectives as to whether the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were even necessary for Japan's surrender. Despite its location, the museum did a wonderful effort in its attempts to portray the events as objective as possible. There were stories of the few individuals who were unfortunate to be at both Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the wrong times. The monument serves as a reminder of the outcomes of evil and the sacrifices for peace. 

Many cultures and/or ethnic or religious groups would normally use events such as this or the American internment camps for Japanese Americans as foundations for continued hatred, bitterness and evil; however, there is something special about the Japanese that results in a lot of order and collective society throughout its country (similar to the Incas in rock 'n roll), the high number of centenarians, and the low birth rate (face of the girl (part 4)). I had heard anecdotes of kindness from many who had lived and visited there, including drunk people passed out on the streets waking up to see their belongings in tact and lined up out of the way of being stomped on by unobservant walkers.

Yesterday the United Nations Security Council unanimously passed the strictest sanctions against any country as retaliation for North Korea's nuclear program and ballistic missiles tests, ultimately squeezing a third of its exports earnings, investments and overseas workers. Between mounting tensions with ISIS, hot-tempered POTUS, narcissistic dictator and aeons of history, one can hope that we have all learned from the decisions made from our past and evolve to not repeat the same mistakes on our road to enlightenment.

* * * * *

Sadako Sasaki was only 2 years-old when she was exposed to radiation from the bombing of Hiroshima. She spent most of her young life in and out hospitals, battling leukemia. When she was 12, she embarked on a journey to make a thousand cranes.

Stemming from an ancient Japanese legend, it is thought that anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes would be granted a wish from the gods. Some believe that one would further have eternal good luck, happiness and long life or health. Cranes, like dragons, are mythical creatures that live for a thousand years.

It is rumored that Sadako did not complete her mission before her death on October 25, 1955; however, classmates contributed their own cranes to eventually complete her goal. According to her family and classmates though, she did complete her goal (plus some) on her own before her death. Unfortunately, her wish to live was not granted. The museum still houses these cranes along with a statue of her holding a crane in the Hiroshima Peace Park, serving as reminder of peace, hope and love. Perhaps her wish was for all of us to live and make the most of 'now'.

code of silence (#sue, #secretsociety123)

This post is specifically dedicated to my first cousin, once removed, who still struggles with 'voices' from her deceased mother haunting her about her looks and 'slut shaming' from childhood. A friend once told me when I started blogging again that perhaps someone would chance upon my musings, and it may help someone who may be going through similar struggles at some point in his/her life.

* * * * *

We all have some form of childhood demons, and an inner child that continues to plague us in adulthood. It is very easy with social media today to pretend to be someone we are not, and have others think the grass is greener in someone else's life. In the Asian community, 'saving face' makes perception reality when it is really anything but. Families spend countless time and energy to hide 'disgraces' and skeletons for generations, often sending their children to live with distant 'relatives'.

My siblings are both doctors - one married another doctor and the other opened up his own family practice which his wife manages. I am a partner in a global consulting firm, and successful in my own right. They both have M.D.'s (clearly), and I have an M.B.A. from a prestigious Ivy League university. On paper, our family has been used by many families that are family, friends and acquaintances of my parents as role models of what their children should strive to be. 

I always hated this type of comparison growing up, even as first generation immigrants with not many older than me to compare. I used to share a number of my accomplishments with my parents (partly in my efforts to find some semblance of something that they would latch onto to be proud of me) until I realized they were using it to boast, and not necessarily out of happiness for my accomplishments (see me love you long time (part 3) and minority of minorities), but to make others feel worse about their situations. It took many lengthy discussions for them to realize that my silence was not from a lack of wanting to share but from the lack of desire to contribute to it being used to make some other child feel 'unworthy'. 

To this day, even my uncle and aunt would continuously 'pressure' their children to follow in our footsteps, not realizing that my sister took two years off in between undergraduate and medical school because she could not separate her dreams from my parents' wishes or that I picked a major out of rebellion without any particular goal in mind and much of my life has been based on luck or divine intervention (i.e., my guardian angels). I could have easily been dead, in prison and/or have five children out of wedlock out of such rebellion.

Perhaps only a handful know though that at the age of 13, I seriously contemplated suicide. That may not be the lowest period of my life, but it was also at a point where I did not have the inner strength to will myself to any other option. In my cowardliness though, I could not decide on the method. My pain tolerance or lack thereof had me too chicken to slit wrists or hang from the closet (eh, I think our closet rods were rather low as well). Other than aspirin, our household was relatively free of any strong prescription drugs, as well as guns. My only outlet at the time turned out to be religion, which seemed to frighten me from being condemned to hell for suicides (something I no longer believe). That, perhaps, saved me enough to feel part of something, until my mid-20s, when I could gather up the inner strength to work on me (see moments that matter (part 3)). My 20s was also the time when I hit major depression that became a downward spiral that was very difficult to get out.

During that period, I held onto a quote from Lady Jane, which is the inspiration for the blog name, that seemed to remind me that there is something better and beyond our experiences on Earth:

"The soul takes flight to the world that is invisible but there arriving she is sure of bliss and forever dwells in paradise."

Plato 

The grass is never greener on the other side...it is green where we water and fertilize it. I have been blessed with some really great friends since college who nurtured me and held onto me when I really just wanted to fly away and disappear. I no longer believe in coincidences in life. Things do eventually happen for a reason, including teaching us to make better decisions as part of 'free will'. We all take the journey we are meant to take, some longer than others (22). We are ultimately responsible for creating our own happiness. Living out someone else's dreams only serves to delay ours, even if it takes another lifetime to complete.

You, I, we...are not alone in this journey. Like I discovered in to err is human, to forgive, divine,  if you are reading this and it helps you in your journey, it is not by chance. Find that inner child and give him/her a big bear hug. I am still looking to hold onto mine...for good this time (and never let her go) (a picture is worth a thousand words, hug it out, and full circle (part 1)), as I relay to her that I love the woman that she's become and it is safe to come home.

tonight

"Your George is gone!" texted a friend. That could have only been one person. I had such a crush on him, and when Kathy Jeung appeared in his "I Want Your Sex" video, I quietly had hope that he was attracted to Asian women and that she was a proxy for me. 😁

He was not only an amazing songwriter reflecting his personal struggles in his songs but also a gifted artist with a melodic voice that could get me energized and dancing or calm me in the appropriate circumstances. He was there for me when I just needed to cry myself to sleep or when I needed to envelope myself with a mental hug.

Like many of us, he had to go through a journey of discovering himself, including sexual orientation from hetero to bi to homo, resulting in public scandals that exposed and forced him to come out. In his own words and in his own terms, he mocked those who forced his hand in "Outside". He went through a few self-destructive stages resulting in drug addiction, which probably weakened his heart to take him in the end, or perhaps he willed it himself. 

Despite his personal demons, he had a heart of gold who anonymously donated funds or provided acts of service to many strangers, which continue to be told in today's world of social media.

After an extended period of hiding from the limelight, he was in the midst of new beginnings with new album and tour before his time was up. He has left a legacy in this lifetime.

Rest in peace...thank you for the moments you provided warmth to a cold life. May you find the love and peace that seemed to allude you in this world, my love. 💞

ftale

It's been a very long time since I've fed this blog. San Francisco just hasn't been so exciting (ironic given los pechos de la chola), which is probably what's led me to do some experimenting. This past week I spontaneously decided to dabble in BDSM with a stranger and foreigner. Despite the stereotype of those in such lifestyles, he is kind, gentle and intelligent. What got him to dabble in this alternative lifestyle is probably similar reasons that draws me to the flame. He can just articulate it while I'm at a lost for words.

It wasn't until the sixth night that he introduced me to flogging. In my slightly drug induced state, I can remember a comment that challenged me to open up and let him in. While I'd like to think I'm an open book, I may not have parts of me that are even open to myself; after all, I don't have much memories before fifth grade. My New Year's resolution this year was to work on my metamorphosis.

So with that, and possibly with the hopes that nobody actually follows this blog anymore, I'm going to try...I want to figure out that spot in the center of my back that holds it all back. I still struggle with understanding why I'm still alive post 9/11 or what my purpose in this life truly is. I wrote the below post in 2012 but never published it. It's an honest reflection of the hopes and dreams of a little girl that just wants to feel loved and craves that sense of belonging which has always alluded her.

He asked me to count to 10. I couldn't voice the numbers but the thoughts that went into my head during the first two whips was that I just wanted to die and begging God to let me die. But after the third when my groin/buttocks were burning, there was some sense of self preservation that cried out 'red'. I know he's disappointed that I couldn't make it to 10. I'm disappointed in myself that I couldn't give that to him. In hindsight, it should have been 'orange'. Is hope red?

* * * * *

My first Disney flick was Little Mermaid. Ariel was different - she didn't quite fit in but it didn't stop her from exploring and seeking new adventures. As with any fairytale though, she found her Prince Charming and the credits start to roll. Since then, I've been enamored by the concept of love. I started collecting Disney movies after, and the sappy Hollywood scripts like Pretty Woman and Harlequin romance novels fueled the fantasy.

But reality is different. When I was 13, the thought of him out there, that there would be someone in the world in this lifetime that would love me unconditionally, kept me alive. I always thought I would be a one-man woman and mate for life. For a while I prayed for him everyday. Every spiritual location/moment, I would close my eyes, light a candle perhaps, and wish... 

In a brief moment in time, I was so sure with every fiber of my being, every bone in my body...that fate (God) finally led me to him. I took bold steps, I was willing to let go of it all...if only for the hope. But I didn't see the wrench that as fate gave me hope, it quickly dashed it away. I stopped praying for him daily - convinced that nothing I try would work. So while I cry less at night and haven't hugged the door in quite a while, it still hurts just as much.

While I'm no longer looking for Prince Charming and want someone to take care of me, it sure would be nice to find a life partner to share your joys and sorrows. And this post, just like every other journal I've started and trashed on this very topic, will eventually get deleted just like the wish of love.

cunning con?

Her name is Ita. She was kind enough to offer to take me around the island on her day off when I was in Bali. We went to some of her favorite spots and some new locales that she had not frequented. That whole day we did a lot of talking. In her 21 years, she was so innocent, and I found myself taking on the role of mentor, and trying to dish out all the wise words I had wished someone had told me when I was young and impressionable.

She had told me about the 8 boyfriends she had in the past year, and how she was so heartbroken. She had told me of Pappa, an Australian friend that sounded like a grandfather figure for her, especially age wise. Initially, it was slightly concerning that there may have been more than just a friendship with Pappa, as there are many older expats who target the young and impressionable Asian women to dominate.

However, during my time in Asia, I have discovered that these relationships are usually mutual in taking advantage of each other for different financial and emotional gains, primarily based on insecurity and unhealthy reasons. The sugar daddy benefits as much as the sugar baby for different reasons. Throughout the course of the day, I would catch comments and actions that were contrary to earlier statements that belied her innocence. The youth and innocence that she portrayed would easily make a man want to protect and be her savior, and with someone with negative intent, it would be easy to shower her with attention that she craved for short term benefits to him, leaving her behind when he returned to his mother country.

* * * * *

Update January 10, 2017:

I recently found out that an acquaintance that I frequently partied with in Vietnam is pregnant. She decided to get herself off of birth control without communicating it to her current expat partner. They continue to have arguments; however, he has disclosed to others that he continues the relationship for the sex. While they are adults and are responsible for their own actions, including enabling each other, I have learned in my research of astrology, numerology and spirituality that bringing others (e.g., child) into the drama is cruel and could pass the karma onto others. Children oftentimes carry the karma of their parents and becomes part of the resolution of such karmic cycles.

Ita is a recent newlywed. From her Facebook posts, it would seem as if her new husband showers her with gifts and tries to help her get acclimated to his family and home in Amsterdam. Yet, there is a sadness behind her smiles in her recent pictures that was not necessarily there in my pictures of her from years ago. Her father passed away over Christmas. Perhaps her family situation resulted in her need to find a husband for practical reasons rather than love. While we would all like to find love, I am blessed in my life in that I am not in a position to feel the need to have a husband or be with someone for anything other than love. I would like to think that if I were either one of these ladies, I would not have made the same unhealthy decisions, but we would never know unless we walk in someone else's shoes.

Ita did make a beautiful bride, and I hope that whoever's karma she is living through that she is able to close the cycle and find happiness that she deserves.

rest in peace

Many years ago, I read a series of books that have changed my perspective in life (see to err is human, to forgive, divine) - actually, I would say it validated rather than changed as for some reason, I was already on that trajectory. One of the things in the book was that people are reading the book as they are ready for it - something akin to things happening for a reason. Having been raised Baptist, there was a lot of push of hell and damnation, which was one of the reasons why I turned away from organized religion (more complex than can be articulated in a blog). The series of books somehow amalgamated many concepts from various organized religions throughout the world and articulated them in such a way that there were no contradictions, and in its own way, made sense.

One of the concepts though is that there is no such thing as hell. Life on earth is the equivalent of the 'hell' as we are prone to use the term, but it's really a matter of life experiences that we choose to experience and continuous rebirths until we achieve some higher learning/experiences -- similar to the various heavens noted in Buddhism (see the road less traveled). Since then, my fear of dying has lessened and focus more on my experiences and living in the moment.

Ben Breedlove, in his young age, has impacted many through his witty relationship advice posts on YouTube through a couple of pseudonyms. But two simple posts with a different pseudonym that he created just for the occasion have touched millions. Many have interpreted his message differently, based on where they are in their lives. Although his life was snuffed out on Christmas, his legacy in itself is a Christmas miracle, as his family were able to view the YouTube posts, which he had uploaded a week before, the day after his death and find comfort. My take -- how wonderful would it be to have that constant smile and peace. His face glows with that smile as he covers that part as well. My hat is off to him for finally finding bliss.

truth or dare

Today I received a number of messages from caring friends and family. I ignored all of them. While I appreciated the thoughts, I just wanted to forget and pretend it was like any other Sunday. I knew the day was coming up, and felt a bit torn by not being in NYC for the significant anniversary and for not being able to see the completion of the memorials after watching the big hole in the ground for years from our offices.

There were significant delays in the rebuilding of the trade centers and the memorials. Too many cooks in the kitchen with the same goal, too focused on their own agendas without listening to others or the voices of those they were trying so hard to remember. NYC changed in the aftermath. People were more tolerant, patient and helpful, which was witnessed when we had the blackout of 2003.

Whether the Holocaust or 9/11, such significant events would be wasted and the lives lost would have been for naught if we, as a global society, did not learn from it. There are a lot of unanswered questions. I always thought that it was odd that if the hijackers did such copious research that they were not aware that New Yorkers do not typically get into work until after 9 am. It is time that we dare to get to the truth.

cougartown

Today is the day I say adieu to one decade and aloha to another. There must be a correlation between aging and time flying...or is it that time is flying because I'm having fun? While the previous decade had a lot of turbulent learnings, the last decade was where the learnings turned into living. It was a decade full of good and bad moments, but the common theme was that they were all pivotal points of some sort:

• Lived through 9/11 and the aftermath. See carpe diem.
• Lost my virginity - I know that it may seem like a shock to many for different reasons: 1) for those who thought I was a sexual prowess up to that point...yeah, no...fooled you!; 2) for those who thought I would save it for marriage, well Mr. Right never came a'knockin and come on, I held off long enough. Yet one doesn't experience something like 9/11 and not think of all the things on one's bucket list. But I do apologize to the individual whom I've known had a crush on me since college and approached within the month after to start the bucket list - a bit straightfoward and definitely callous of me. However, it eventually happened with a different person and on the right terms.
• Learned to love (at least to the extent that I was capable at that point in my life).
• Purchased my first apartment. 
• Achieved the ultimate level at work. While I had eventually given up in the prior decade on seeking my parents' approval and while they still have no clue what I do, they understood enough of the accomplishment that I was told that dad teared up with pride.
• Blessed with the most loving, adventurous, curious, intelligent nieces and nephews who constantly entertain and amuse their favorite and crazy aunt (no biasness whatsoever).
• Purchased my first house.
• Experienced loss. See in loving memory.
• Became a godmother to a beautiful goddaughter with wonderful parents.
• Found me! See unanswered prayers.
• Met my soulmate, at least one of them. 😄 And while the first meet was when I was still the shy, cautious self, I got the opportunity to see him again in the confident skin, and it was much more fun. Ironically, it was because of the regrets from the first meeting that I started throwing caution to the wind - living a fearless life.
• Sold the apartment and paid off all the mortgages.
• Prioritized, packed up and relocated for new adventures.

If the pattern and momentum of history is any indication of the trajectory of my life, the next decade is bound to be better. ROAR!

the road less traveled

I finally decided to do the touristy things during my latest trip to Bangkok. I'm usually not a huge fan of typical tourist attractions, especially after going to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, which probably still ranks in the top 10, possibly numero uno, of the biggest disappointments. I can now check off blessings from the Emerald Buddha (who is really made of jade) at the Grand Palace, a long tailboat ride at the Damnoen Saduak floating market, and a bare-back elephant ride.

But when a friend invited me to go on a random neighborhood walkabout in the shanty town near Phra Pin-klao and Rama VIII bridges, I was totally game. He explained that he got lost a few years ago and ended up in the area, making a mental note to come back and explore. We had no map and no clue what we would discover. It was a great afternoon of discoveries and meeting such friendly people who were happy to share their lives and feed our curiosities.

A few things we learned:

• Monks get cremated, and the cremation chamber has a number of wide doors that are opened for the soul to fly.
• Bhuddists believe that there are 65 heavens (six worlds of desires with 60 levels in the sixth world).
• Only 2.7 million of the 65 million people in Thailand pay taxes since it is mostly a cash-based, sole proprietorship society (similar to Vietnam).
• Although it is more developed with a huge reliance on the tourism industry, less people speak English in Bangkok than in Saigon.
• Similarly, there is also less free wifi.
• Wind blows in the opposite direction of the direction of the rainclouds.
• Thailand is probably the only country where the entire country is predominantly one religion - so cultural and religious beliefs are difficult to distinguish one from the other.
• The society views raising children as a group effort rather than individual parent(s)' effort.

We ended up getting lost trying to find a restaurant that he somehow remembered he wanted to try. Although we ended up a different place, it had a live local band, riverfront views, and with only one other foreigner there. The night ended with a nightcap at Khao San road, another touristy spot, but at that point, I stopped noticing.

the killing fields

We have all heard about the Holocaust; however, in my naivete, I didn't realize that The Killing Fields was anything other than a fictional movie in the 1980s. After the Vietnam War ended, the Khmer Rouge Regime under Pol Pot executed almost 3 million (based on estimates) out of 7-8 million people in Cambodia during a 3-4 year period. While I still don't understand the motivation behind it all, the objective of Pol Pot was to create an urban classless society, including a form of ethnic cleansing that included elimination of educated individuals.

Phnom Penh was cleared out in three days, as people were moved to rice farms, etc. to work the land. Some died of starvation and diseases. Many, primarily women and children, were executed by bashing their heads against trees that were saturated with blood. Others were killed with blunt objects like spades, leaving evidences of such atrocities in the skulls that were discovered. Buddhists believe that bodies should be located in positive environments so a stupa was built in Choeng Ek, one of the larger killing fields where it is estimated that almost 20,000 were executed, to house the almost 9,000 skulls that were discovered.

The bones and clothes have been carefully cleaned, preserved and documented for cause of death to the extent that it can be determined. Walking along the fields, there is a distinct smell that I could not determine the origins. It was not quite like what I noted in carpe diem after 9/11, but the memory came to mind. While the graves were shallow, the burials were very compact. It is common to this day that heavy rainfall may result in unearthing bones and clothing.

Visual signs of bones embedded in the earth

While she may be too young to remember much, a staff person that works with me recounted how her family would move relatives from village to village in order to erase history and any remnants of education, claiming to be peasants and taxi drivers. She also noted that in many cases, the regime would use peasant boys that were 10 to 13-years old to perform the executions of the emaciated humans. Even though she has relatives that were executed, she noted that her family has one relative that is still unaccounted for today, which they have assumed perished.

History is meant to be learned. Yet, it is baffling that it took almost thirty years for the United Nations to establish a genocide tribunal. The Khmer Rouge was also recognized as a legitimate government and had a seat at the UN up to 15 years after the genocide. The first prosecution occurred in 2010.

It was a bit ironic to drive back into town and see a huge banner above a major street that read something to the effect of 'education - a must for all children'.

carpe diem

In a lifetime, one hopes that there are not a lot of moments that would start off with 'where were you when...' The space shuttle explosion, the Berlin wall coming down...and then there was 9/11. That day changed my life for many reasons.

There are always animated discussions when one discusses fate, things happening for a reason, no coincidences, etc. While I don't have the answers to that, I do know that the floors where Cantor Fitzgerald occupied were our firm's floors that were subleased after the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. Our partners were not keen on coming back to those facilities after descending over 100 flights of stairs. Cantor Fitzgerald lost all of its employees that were in the office on that day (2/3 of its workforce). A week before 9/11, I had decided to change my travel itinerary and decided not to take the first flight out of Newark to San Francisco (United 93) to meet with a client's attorneys, but rather break up my trip by flying to Boise on Monday and then San Francisco on Tuesday. Our new offices were across the street, and my apartment was a block away from the closest hospital.

Everyone there has very vivid memories of the day and the aftermath. For me, living in a 5th floor walk-up apartment with no air conditioner and constantly keeping the windows open, I will always remember the smell of decay the summer after when the wind blew in a certain direction. So a week after the news about Osama, I am constantly asked about that day once people realize I'm from New York. Unfortunately, it doesn't give me closure. I am glad though that New Yorkers do not have to go through all the trials and tribulations of the American court system, and all those that would protest to argue that such individuals deserve a fair trial. There is no fairness or rationale for what occurred, and some of us are still left with trying to figure out why we were spared.

in loving memory

Today is the second anniversary of my paternal grandmother's death, which marks the end of the official mourning period. I didn't know her well yet I did. Some relatives attribute my life to her. As a baby/toddler, I had difficulties eating and/or chewing. In a time and in a country where it wasn't typical to have food processors or jarred baby food, my bà nội (paternal grandmother) would take on the laborious task of chewing up the food for me. With my father in the military and mother working, bà nội was there for many of my formative years. In the last few years, I've heard countless stories about how I would constantly beg to go to bà nội's house, even though I'm at bà ngoại's (maternal grandmother) house.

She raised eight children and countless grandchildren. When she was in her 70s, I finally got to meet her again during my first trip back to Vietnam after we emigrated. Despite combating many old age illnesses, she wanted to go with the family to tour parts of the country despite the harsh traveling conditions in the countryside back then. That was when my sister was able to capture my favorite picture of her. She trekked through the loose sand and insisted on frolicking in the ocean and having the fun that she witnessed from her grandchildren. She had no bathing suit but jumped in the waves regardless - white shirt and all...fun and full of life.

It was her funeral two years ago that brought me back to my birth country. While I was there for a very sad occasion, I also had one of, if not, the best surreal weekend in my life thus far. I remember thinking, and still believe, that the experience was a gift from her (or that she put in a good word for me to the woman upstairs). It also started me on this journey that I'm on now with my quest to explore Southeast Asia and a bit of my culture and history.

There was a ceremony with prayers and blessings, ending with a burning of the mourning clothes and other items, such as symbolic money and clothes for the departed to have in their afterlife. At the age of 90, bà nội finally joined her husband who preceded her two decades ago and her son who perished in the war. The mourning period may be officially over but she will always remain in my heart.

...do as the romans do

Vietnamese do not generally celebrate individual birthdays beyond the first month/year. The older generations usually only refer to their animal sign based on the Vietnamese zodiac, which is similar to the Chinese one. In fact, on Tet (Vietnamese New Year), it is considered everyone's birthday, and people officially add another year on that day. Death anniversaries are the ones that people celebrate and remember the exact dates.

During the mass exodus of the boat people, many only had time to collect family members and a few valuables. Legal records (or family books) were often left behind. However, even for those who managed to remember to grab such documents, the records usually indicated the dates of when the activity (e.g., birth, marriage) were recorded rather than the actual event dates. [For this reason, I have a 'conspiracy theory' about me being adopted or a soldier's love child. => moments that matter (part 3)] In some situations, families were so large that parents had difficulty remembering even the Vietnamese zodiac sign of each child.

Because of that, one of my friends has two birthdays (well, three if you count Tet) - one is her legal one and the other is her true birthdate. They are two years and a month apart. A local tradition is that the birthday person picks up the tab, which is probably a way to discourage people from celebrating birthdays. So today is her birthday, and although she is Vietkieu from Canada, she (well, her husband) paid. The best part is that we get to do it again next month. Like the saying goes, 'when in Rome...'