YOUR QUEST: Imagine that any aspect of your habits or thinking could be rewired with enough practice. What would you change or rewire? Why?
If an ingenious scientist could cut open my brain, I would ask him to fix my procrastination wire and editing function. My problem is that I'm full of ambition, but without the proper organization and diligence to follow through with my plans, they're just empty dreams. I have had so many powerful ideas that come to me like waves of inspiration and I lack the energy to follow through. So then I'm just left with disappointment and a picture framed in my mind of what could have been.
I strongly believe I have really good ideas but I've noticed through my experiences in Japan, that sometimes they're too grand. This is where the editing needs to come in. I need to learn to scale down my ideas into what is manageable but still innovative. I think the solution to both to set more strict deadlines to meet. That way, I'm keeping myself in check on my efficiency through out the day, and rule out what is distracting. I'm also scared of wasting time. That may be the primary thing that holds me back from doing what I want to do. I think that's why it's better if it's for a job because at least I would be contributing to the greater picture. That makes me feel more justified to go along with my crazy ideas.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Vietnam Travels: From "Em" to "Chi", from "Con" to "Co"
A long time ago, when I was still a wee lad, my family and I took trips back to Vietnam to visit my mother's family and friends once every three to four years. It was an awesome time to be young and American. We were the guests of honor who they rarely got to see and who came with "American moola". So as kids, my brother and I were spoiled like crazy by adoring friends and distant relatives we never knew existed until then.
In the Vietnamese language, we address others using titles. "Em" denotes a younger sibling, boy or girl. "Chi" and "Anh" denotes an older sibling and differentiates between "older sister" and "older brother". For kids, it is "con" and for adults, depending on their age in reference to our parents, it is "Co" for women, "Chu" for men, and "Bac" for anyone older. The interesting thing is, we do not just use these titles when referring to other people; we use them to refer to ourselves and our relationship to the person we are talking to. "Em thuong Chi" translates to "Little Sister loves Big Sister". The sense of "I" does not really exist. There is a word that literally translates to "I" which is "thuoi", but it is rarely used other than in self monologue narratives. It sounds cold and disconnected to the Vietnamese ear. The reason is, we use these familial titles for anyone who is Vietnamese. This acknowledgement of countrymen as family symbolizes the unity of the Vietnamese people and their our connection to one another.
For me, as young American being showered with such love and affection, these titles also had a guarantee with them. As the "em" and "con" in every relationship, it meant that I would be protected and always cared for by my "Anh, Chi, Co, Chu, and Bac". So each time I said their name, I acknowledged that they were the people responsible for my well being, thus solidifying my bond to them.
Well something happened on this trip back to Vietnam. I had become a "Chi" and a "Co" with even realizing it.
My older cousins had all gotten married and now had at least one child of their own for me to shower with love and affection. All of my second cousins are not infants; most were in elementary school and could speak their minds. They are adorable, spoiled rotten, and extremely curious. I fell in love with them the moment I got to know them. However during conversations, I struggled with the sudden change in names. When I was young, switching back and forth from "Em" and "Con" was easy. In America, we just used "I" and in Japan, it is considered rude to draw too much attention to yourself. Now I had the titles of "Em, Con, Chi, and Co" to juggle back and forth during conversations.
As I struggled to get each title right it dawned on me the huge responsibility I was signing up for as being these children's "Co". After teaching small children in Japan for the past three years, I became well informed with what was lying ahead in their life. It is extremely overwhelming to say the very least. I realize that my cousins were not asking me to take these children under my wing and transform them to into perfect model citizens. However, the faults that I could foresee in each cousin's mentality and confidence were so clearly written out in front of me. Were they going to be able to survive the bullies at school? Could they handle the awkward relationships between with friends? Could they handle the verbal abuse and torment from adults? Are they learning how to be strong and kind in a world that can be cruel and relentless? I realize that their parents have enough wealth to feed all of the homeless in one Vietnamese city for a year, but money will not save them nor teach them the values of humanity and virtue. Those are the things that I feel responsible for teaching to my little lads.That is the bond I agreed to the moment I acknowledged they were my "con" and I, their "Co".
In the Vietnamese language, we address others using titles. "Em" denotes a younger sibling, boy or girl. "Chi" and "Anh" denotes an older sibling and differentiates between "older sister" and "older brother". For kids, it is "con" and for adults, depending on their age in reference to our parents, it is "Co" for women, "Chu" for men, and "Bac" for anyone older. The interesting thing is, we do not just use these titles when referring to other people; we use them to refer to ourselves and our relationship to the person we are talking to. "Em thuong Chi" translates to "Little Sister loves Big Sister". The sense of "I" does not really exist. There is a word that literally translates to "I" which is "thuoi", but it is rarely used other than in self monologue narratives. It sounds cold and disconnected to the Vietnamese ear. The reason is, we use these familial titles for anyone who is Vietnamese. This acknowledgement of countrymen as family symbolizes the unity of the Vietnamese people and their our connection to one another.
For me, as young American being showered with such love and affection, these titles also had a guarantee with them. As the "em" and "con" in every relationship, it meant that I would be protected and always cared for by my "Anh, Chi, Co, Chu, and Bac". So each time I said their name, I acknowledged that they were the people responsible for my well being, thus solidifying my bond to them.
Well something happened on this trip back to Vietnam. I had become a "Chi" and a "Co" with even realizing it.
My older cousins had all gotten married and now had at least one child of their own for me to shower with love and affection. All of my second cousins are not infants; most were in elementary school and could speak their minds. They are adorable, spoiled rotten, and extremely curious. I fell in love with them the moment I got to know them. However during conversations, I struggled with the sudden change in names. When I was young, switching back and forth from "Em" and "Con" was easy. In America, we just used "I" and in Japan, it is considered rude to draw too much attention to yourself. Now I had the titles of "Em, Con, Chi, and Co" to juggle back and forth during conversations.
As I struggled to get each title right it dawned on me the huge responsibility I was signing up for as being these children's "Co". After teaching small children in Japan for the past three years, I became well informed with what was lying ahead in their life. It is extremely overwhelming to say the very least. I realize that my cousins were not asking me to take these children under my wing and transform them to into perfect model citizens. However, the faults that I could foresee in each cousin's mentality and confidence were so clearly written out in front of me. Were they going to be able to survive the bullies at school? Could they handle the awkward relationships between with friends? Could they handle the verbal abuse and torment from adults? Are they learning how to be strong and kind in a world that can be cruel and relentless? I realize that their parents have enough wealth to feed all of the homeless in one Vietnamese city for a year, but money will not save them nor teach them the values of humanity and virtue. Those are the things that I feel responsible for teaching to my little lads.That is the bond I agreed to the moment I acknowledged they were my "con" and I, their "Co".
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