o failure, i know thee too well

Wow. Today's work day kicked. my. ass. Instead of the usual morning workout with Daniel, I stayed home to write a three-act play in Chinese for my students. The play is based on ideas they had hashed out themselves, so I can thankfully not take credit for the crazy plot line. Somehow I tied all the quirky and odd details into one coherent story. This marks the first time I write a story entirely in pinyin.

So after about two to three hours of this, I was actually pretty excited to introduce and rehearse this play with my students. I even planned extra lesson materials in case we run out of work to do. Talk about unrealistically optimistic. In retrospect, I should have included English translation and very limited copies for them to have themselves. Nobody except two students consistently paid attention to me in class. It was awful. I have zero disciplinary skills. I only know how to teach. And that begs the question: If a teacher cannot discipline a class room full of students, could s/he still be considered a good teacher? I guess that depends on one's expectation of a teacher. Daniel said a GREAT teacher would be able to discipline as well as teach. Well, that settles it. I am definitely not a GREAT teacher.

And that really, really kind of tears me up a little. I don't want to dedicate to my life's work to something I'm not GREAT at. If teaching's not something I'm GREAT at, why not do something else? Then the sad truth descends upon me. Maybe I'm not GREAT or even good at anything at all.

That's why it's so hard to put this rough day behind me. Because it's quite possible that a facade of my self-image has been ripped apart, and I am glimpsing a piece of the ugly truth behind... that I am a mediocre person at best.

What am I basing my life and worth upon?

It must be great to be someone who's good at basically anything. Several people I know comes to mind, in that that's how they think of / believe about themselves. That confidence... I don't know if it's ill-founded, but it's something I never have. Would that make a difference?

Back to work...revamping the ol' play and adding more student-friendly translations and templates.

a lenten prayer by dietrich bonhoeffer

O God, early in the morning I cry to you.

Help me to pray

And to concentrate my thoughts on you;

I cannot do this alone.

In me there is darkness,

But in you there is light;

I am lonely, but you do not leave me;

I am feeble in heart, but with you there is peace.

I am restless, but with you there is peace.

In me there is bitterness, but with you there is patience;

I do not understand your ways,

But you know the way for me…

Restore me to liberty,

And enable me to live now

That I may answer before you and before men.

Lord, whatever this day may bring,

Your name be praised.

Amen.

a low day

As soon as I saw the picture of little Nicholas getting ready for ski school in the same rented ski lodge in which I spent an early week of being pregnant with Declan, I knew that I should have just postponed the two classes I'm teaching this week so that my students' course would end one week later and to hell with two days of their after school arrangements. I don't know when's the next time we as a family could make it to Colorado for the annual extended family ski trip in March. Argh, hindsight.

News of Israel and Iran possibly going into a state of war. I'm sincerely praying about the situation daily, as we expect to move to Israel in September. It would be oh so ironic to have left China because I was concerned about its food safety and environmental effects on Declan, only to get bombed or something elsewhere.

Speaking of moving, my U.S. passport expires next year around this time. I'll need to renew it asap. It's too bad Israel doesn't recognize Taiwan as a country, so that I couldn't just use my Republic of China passport. There is definitely some irony in that.

Feeling so lethargic and tired lately. Sometimes I wonder if I should take antidepressants.

the sound of silence in my mind

I'm lonely. There, I admit it.

My husband made the comment this morning that he wishes I would spend less time on Facebook. I actually wish very much the same thing, and this sentiment has been the reason why I've deleted my account two times already. Actual deletions, which meant that I had needed to rebuild my friends list from scratch after each return.

It's not so much that I'm addicted to Facebook (I'm really not. I can quit any time!) as I'm lonely, even in Seattle. Facebook gives me quick glimpses and false sense of contact with people I know that are strewn all over the world. Alas, as with all things false, this kind of contact turns sour in my stomach, as it's merely voyeurism, nothing more. Also, it usually means that the glow of the computer would attract my easily-attracted son and time and energy must be further employed to distract him away from the computer before he starts wailing to watch Veggie Tales.

There are people I know in this city, but they all have their own lives. Mostly childless. And/Or otherwise filled with fulfilling studies/careers. And/Or they live, actually, in the suburbs and it would take more than one bus transfer in order for my high-need toddler and me to get there. That is to say, most days, it's just me, and the kid, and the husband. And the elementary students I teach, which is another category of joy-draining responsibility.

And this fog, this heavy yet ever-shifting fog of dark dreariness, still clings to me. I can't beat it away. I understand why people with chronic depression might eventually give up the good fight of staying alive. Just to get a break from this stultifying dullness. I understand, Sylvia Plath, I do.

I recently started and finished, in one day, a memoir by Meghan Daum called Life Would Be Perfect If I Lived In That House. The reason why I felt compelled to read without stopping (or as continuously as is possible with a toddler around the abode) is how well I share her drive to find a place she could call home, a surrounding that would help her feel like herself, come into her own, understand her destiny. Of course, in reading about her wanderlust, I can see very transparently her foolishness, which she herself admits in retrospect. And yet, I am living her life right now, in a way, with my own wanderlust and wondering.

So tired. If sleeping forever would cure this feeling, I would do it. Just sleep forever.

enjoying the flatline

Going out of town is hard with a young child. It took about two days of extra fussiness after a weekend on Whidbey Island, visiting a musselfest there with Christy and Joanne, before Declan's now back to his more-or-less daily routine.

A lot of things have been happening...or maybe that's just how it feels. On the outside, we're a quiet little family. We go to the gym together in the mornings, then depending on the day, Daniel and I take turns taking care of Declan in the afternoon. I catch the bus to go teaching Mandarin at an elementary charter school on Monday and Wednesdays, and Daniel walks over to the University of Washington on Tuesdays. Tuesday nights are story time at the library with Josie the librarian, and other times I try to make dinner for friends to come over and eat together.

I guess it's our inner life that's really been changing, and the tenor of our relationship. A positive change, from the depression and darkness (which we eventually sought marital counseling for while in Pittsburgh) and then shared mutual nightmare in China to now this: a peacefulness, a steady period of spending time with God and each other while our professional lives are both on relative pause. We've finally taken to praying regularly for each other, and Declan, spending consistent time together as a family without Daniel going off by himself in his head like a typical mathematician (and their high divorce rates...correlation or causation, one wonders). We have even started talking about possibly having another child, as I feel tentatively healthy enough, emotionally. For some reason, maybe because I came from a household of four with an older brother, I would like my now-family to feel complete with, hopefully, a daughter. I'm surprisingly excited to see what God has in store in this area. The surprise at my excitement, when it's been all I could do to not commit suicide most days as recently as two months ago.

I'm re-reading the Hunger Games in anticipation of the movie release. There's no way, I suspect, that the movie could be even remotely reflective of the books' gritty complexity. And Daniel and I have a bet over the actor for Truman Capote in Capote. If he wins, I would make steaks, corns, and mashed potatoes for dinner--a splurge on our budget right now. If I win, a bowl of real ramen or pho. I know I'm right; just waiting for him to concede tonight.

recent discoveries

- After literally years of desiring to take a Pilates class, I did it today. And discovered that my core sucks. This shouldn't have been such a big shock since I haven't really exercised much since Declan was born, but given that I used to be able to do 100 pushups and sit-ups no problem during swim team practices in high school, the degree of my core's current ineptitude is staggering. Hopefully it'll get better...

- I'm the most important person in my son's life. This is a startling realization because I've always preferred to stay in the background of most social groups. I prefer to connect people rather than dominate the relationships -- less social pressure that way, and I can slink away and enjoy my solitude whenever. As a result, I've always felt myself to be a rather dispensable character in my friends' lives. The fact that I moved all the time growing up (and even now) deepens that sense of my transiency. But then I meet this little person, who loves to see me -- like when I enter the childcare room at my gym to pick him up after a workout. No matter how much fun he was having, wherever he is, he'd always run towards me while dancing a little and cackling excitedly. When he gets hurt, he runs straight to me. When I'm cooking dinner or washing the dishes, I would sometimes feel this little person propel himself suddenly at my leg (the only height he can reach) and hug me desperately tight. Sometimes my centrality in his eyes get a little stifling, like when I really really want a break from being the only one who could calm him down. I am (secretly) starting to thrill to his clingy love; it's just so wholehearted and pure. How could I resist?

(I do still worry about whether or not my son will one day actually become a fully functioning, healthily interdependent citizen of the world. It's just really hard to imagine right now.)

- As lonely and far removed from my friends as I feel sometimes, I am blessed with wonderful friends. On Judy's birthday this past Sunday, she prepared a wonderful hotpot that I got to share. Her grad school friend, visiting from California, heard of how we first met: when Judy joined me on my 2am run during freshman year of college. I myself have forgotten the details, except that I remember how kind this girl from Guam was to be concerned by how late I was going out. Judy recalled that we ran six laps and that we saw a shower of falling stars--her first witnessing of this celestial event (a big reason why I used to love running late at night). I'm so touched that she remembered so clearly. And today, on a whim while shopping at Trader Joe's, I asked Daniel to invite Christy to Paseo's with us -- and it's wonderful how often she's happy to hang out on short notices. We had a magnificent dinner of Cuban sandwiches and walked over to Molly Moon's for ice cream afterwards.

(Declan OD'ed on my maple walnut ice cream and went berserk. He started becoming a total social butterfly at the store, then got licked in the face by a big black dog, all the while frowning at the experience, and then proceeded to run with little legs furiously pumping away up and down the sidewalk.)

- I may have eaten too much ice cream tonight. A single scoop at Molly Moon's is definitely not the same size as a kid's scoop, the latter of which I usually get and will always get after tonight.

why i really like where we live right now

- I was showering after working out this morning, and really appreciated how I could still enjoy a steady stream of hot water as I shampooed my hair. Never shall I take for granted the gift of having a nice bathtub to stand in.

- Even though our MIL apartment overlooks I-5, it's still quiet, tucked into a little side street. And even though it's a small place, the flow of the apartment helps us to have people over for pleasant dinners together as often as we want.

- Everything the family really needs is within walking distance: the University and Wallingford branches of the Seattle library, Safeway and Trader Joe's, Half Price Books, the YMCA, the bus stop I get to work and back from, and UW, which Daniel walks to for Tuesday math seminars.

- Daniel and I have finally resumed some sort of exercise routine, thanks to YMCA's free child care from 8am to 12pm. I was so very proud of our boy for playing up a storm and not minding us doing cycling or lifting in the other rooms. My apprehension due to the fact that we have never hired a babysitter i.e. always traded off having Declan with one or both of us turned out to be a moot point. Praise God!

- All the good food we eat together as a family: organic vegetables and fruits...especially the blueberries that Declan and I snack on like candy. It's nice to not wonder about our food sources, or wash beans I bought only to find out they've been painted.

- Getting to church and Christy's place takes about 30-40 minutes on foot, which is just right for a decent walk without getting too tired. I am really thankful for the church community we're starting to know here. Even though Declan's the only toddler/child in a congregation filled with seniors, the warmth and support of everyone who doesn't mind his noises during service, etc is so nice to experience.

- I do miss the friends we made in China, but I am increasingly glad we made the decision to leave.