A Surgeon Fascination

Since working at Children’s Hospital, I’ve developed a crush, a fascination, and an insatiable curiosity on surgeons. (I say surgeons because from working with them, they’ve turned me snobby towards things like primary care physicians. Doctor ain't a doctor till there's scalpels involved.) I find their work fascinating and I am convinced that they lead not only interesting lives, but totally messed up lives. A person cannot cut open another being, mess around with the insides, and stitch them back up, without being totally messed up in the head. And to have as much power as a surgeon can have, to know that you’ve given someone a new nose or a new heart, that must make them think they’re substituting God to a degree, so no wonder the egos.

However messed up they may be, there is also admiration in my crush, because of how worthy their job is. How important. How respectable. While so many of us slave away at barely meaningful jobs never knowing what contribution we’re making to this world, a surgeon sees the difference he makes on a daily and personal basis.

And perhaps the fascination and wonder exists because they are something I’ll never be and can never be. Biology escapes me and the sight of a needle brings me to tears. So I will sit back and continue to admire for now, until Jeremy’s a bit older, and then I’ll do my best to make a surgeon out of him. Do you think it's too soon to introduce him to a scalpel? How bout we start with a stethoscope?

A promise to myself

I need to write/blog more often. This is my only way of clearing my thoughts and understanding myself, and somehow I've neglected journal-ing for almost a year now. I can actually feel that I'm losing myself, like I'm no longer in touch with the mind that is inside my body and I am just a walking piece of meat

Strange how life can be. A month ago I was feeling perfectly content and happy- with a stable job in this awful economy; loving friends; and projects waiting for me to finish. Life wasn't perfect but I had no complaints.

Today however, I feel completely empty and lonely. Wondering what life is all about, what I'm meant to do, and why I'm here. I'm crazy confused- Everything and everyone seems so far away, my dream seems so unattainable, and it feels like I'll never find love.

oh love.... that's another whole can of worms that I would rather not talk about right now.

Anways, starting today, I'm gonna write everyday, even if its just a short entry, because only with consistent self reflection will I be able to get a clear sight of whats to be done in my life. And even though I had a gloomy day, I shall remain hopeful that my brain will be making a comeback soon and the body and mind will join forces again.

Watch out because I will probably be pretty awesome then.

I Never Had it So Good

I’m pretty darn exhausted right now, but I feel compelled to write because I never have a free moment to do so unless Jeremy’s sleeping. And unfortunately, I never capitalize on his naps during the day. So though exhausted and burnt out tonight, I write.

I write to remember – to remember what it feels like to hold Jeremy in my arms, to remember Jeremy as a baby, to try and hang on to these fleeting days. Because I keep hearing all these moms tell me how they grow up so fast. And though I don’t know it now or believe that now, I know that I will one day. And that day will be when he’s already big. And I want to remember.

The days with Jeremy are passing by so fast that I haven’t had a moment to sit down and reflect on life post baby. When chatting with Will the other day, he caught me off guard when he asked me how my life has changed since Jeremy. And believe it or not, I really hadn’t thought about that until now.

Oh how life has changed since Jeremy’s arrived. Things are done with a purpose now; the purpose being Jeremy. “This is for Jeremy” is enough kick old/bad habits and enough to develop good ones. “I need to be a good example for Jeremy” is sufficient to make me apologize, or speak up for myself, or do the right thing. I gush at his smiles, his laugh, his wonder, his sleepiness, his alertness, his muttering gaga sounds. There are times when he’s wholly focused and in the moment with me, where he’ll stare deeply into my eyes and mine his and we’ll make baby sounds at one another as if telling one another how much we love each other, back and forth, and those moments make my heart melt and my eyes water.

I would’ve never been able to imagine life to be like this. That life now as a single mom is better than it ever was.

People of Excellence

There is an old Chinese saying that says ' people that goes near one who stays near vermilion gets stained red, and one who stays near ink gets stained black'. Meaning that one takes the behavior of one's company. Growing up, my dad (my brilliant dad whom I never give enough credit to) would always tell me how I need to make friends that are better than me (another Chinese saying that I can't remember at the moment). He would tell me that I need friends that I can learn from, instead of friends that I just have a good time with. I never understood it. To me, my friends are my friends - they are precious to me and I shouldn't weight our friendship based on how capable they are. I hated that he was so shallow and couldn't appreciate them. So I disregarded his words.

Years later, in a my college dorm room thousands of miles away from home, I heard Will Smith preach a similar message. He said something along the lines of 'if you want to know what kind of person someone is, all you have to do is look at their friends'. Somehow Will Smith's words put what my dad's been trying to tell me all my life in perspective, and I finally understood how important it is to be surrounded by people that you can look up to, to befriend people that you not only have a good time with but also respect because they have something valuable for you to learn. At the end of the day, what good are friends if they can't build each other up and open windows and doors for each other?

About a month ago, I read this on Jaeson Ma's blog and #35 (If people of excellence do not surround them) stuck out like a Vivienne Westwood creation. How blatantly beautiful and true! Friends are so important that a relationship deserves a second thought just because of it! You are who your friends are and if they're not great then you're not so great either!

Ever since then, I've been obsessed with finding these 'people of excellence'. People that I can oooo, ahhh, and awww over; people that inspire me to become better; people that trigger new ideas, so on so forth. Whether it is in real life, on Twitter, or even just reading a good book - I hope that by surrounding myself with these people(and great minds), I will one day be a person of excellence to someone else and inspire great things in them too.

Jewels

carol sometimes tries to convince me that arts and crafts is my calling. i dont think i would mind even if it were. i can still remember one of the games that i used to play as a little girl was pretending to be on a children's show teaching people how to make all kinds of little things. from cards, to pencil holders made from tissue rolls, to origami folding. i would have a table set up with paper, crayons, scissors, glue, etc. and i would explain the steps to my "audience" (which for the most part was nothing but a few stuffed animals) as i completed the project...


these days, arts and crafts have became my outlet, grounding me back to that little girl with the big table, reminding me that even if everyday life is tedious and repetitive, beautiful things are just right there waiting for me to create.

made this for carol's 23rd birthday, with Jolee's Swarovski jewels.
the locket opens to a picture of little jeremy. happy birthday carol!

A Father's Love

My first day back at work is tomorrow but at the moment I'm indulged in Rebecca Woolf's "Rockabye." I have this awful habit where if a book is good, I neglect all things and forget to put the book down.

In short, she is a 23 year old 'rockstar' sort of figure who suddenly finds out she is pregnant. Her and her boyfriend elope to Vegas and gets married, she then has a son named Archer. I just finished reading the chapter where she gave birth and she is now holding her son Archer in her arms. She writes:

"This is what it feels like to love somebody. However I defined love before now seems so terribly off. So not like this. When I look over at Hal (her husband), I know he knows. And I think how from this moment forward, no matter what happens, Hal will be the only person in the world who understands the way I feel. The only person in the history of histories who can look at Archer with the same eyes, no matter how differently we may look at each other or the world. I have never felt so close to anybody as I do right now with him, because we did this together."

I wonder if Jeremy's father would see Jeremy the way I do, if he were to see him now for the first time. Would he love him the way I do? Sacrifice for him the way I would? Would three months of separation change a father's love?.

It makes me sad that I don't have this other person to share this intimate experience with. It's true that the only other person that could fully feel for Jeremy the way I feel for him is his father. The only other person involved in creating this beautiful, perfect being has chosen to not be a part of his life or mine.

But then I look at Jeremy, I look at the way he smiles, the way he falls asleep, the way he looks into my eyes, and then I realize it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I don't have a husband to share this experience with, for I've gained something far better, I've gained a son.

Tribute to Rilke

I have truly come across a gem, Rainer Maria Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet."

'Turn therefore from the common themes to those which your own everyday life affords; depict your sorrows and desires, your passing thoughts and belief in some kind of beauty - depict all that with heartfelt, quiet, humble sincerity and use to express yourself the things that surround you, the images of your dreams and the objects of your memory.'

'If your everyday life seems poor to you, do not accuse it; accuse yourself, tell yourself you are not poet enough to summon up its riches; since for the creator there is no poverty and no poor or unimportant place. And even if you were in a prison whose walls allowed none of the sounds of the world to reach your senses - would you not still have always your childhood, that precious, royal richness, that reasure house of memories? Turn your attention there.'

Reading this thus far has encouraged me to stop being so afraid to write on a medium that reaches an anonymous audience. I believe the following sums it up best: 'And if from this turning inwards, from this sinking into your private world, there come verses, you will not think to ask anyone whether they are good verses... for you will see in them your own genuine possession, a portion and a voice of your life. A work of art is good if it has grown out of necessity.'

So with that said, I hope to finally muster the courage to indulge into my own musings, and then be able to translate these thoughts into words.