At the end of 2019, I thought 2020 was going to become one of the most epic and fruitful years of my life. I had spent two and a half years working and saving money in my software engineering job, one year doing life coaching and side hustling to figure out my new career path, four months busy studying and preparing for grad school applications. I had stressed out myself so much during this process, begging for recommendations letters, trying to summarize my whole life in essays, fighting with my partner over the future of our relationships, and persuading my parents that abandoning my high-paying tech job to study psychotherapy or master of divinity in those expensive specialized schools in the US that has nobody has heard about in China so that I could become a Buddhist spiritual teacher of some sort was a great idea. I wish I could’ve seen my parents’ faces.
I worked so hard, I thought, but everything is going to pay off soon. By March 2020, I had received offers from four out of five schools I applied for, quit my job, announced my end-of-lease in my community house, compiled a long list of international festivals and retreats, and ready to take off to travel around the world before enrolling in school.
Hahaha, what a great plan! Except what actually happened was, of course, nothing even slightly close.
I remember when the coronavirus number spiked in the US and San Francisco declared shelter in place on March 16, I was panicking and still trying to search for countries I could travel to, holding on to the last straw of my fantasy vacation. Then all South East Asia closed, all Europe closed, Japan closed; at some point my initial back-up, Hawaii also declared quarantine policy. With me being a Chinese passport holder traveling from the US with an expiring visa, soon all traveling became impossible. Things then got tricker. Because I had recklessly quit my job and throw away my work visa, to legally enroll in grad school in fall, I have to travel back to China only to get a student visa so that I could re-enter the US. Each step in this plan could simply not work with increasing visa suspensions and travel restrictions. It seemed that chaos only attracts more chaos. I had to change my flight to China four times before snatching one way-overpriced valid ticket. My five-people community house decided to disband by April and we all had to find new homes. I moved in with my partner only to move out a week later after finding out we both did not enjoy living together. All so much fun.
But soon I became fascinated by this whole experience. Excited. Inspired. Grateful, even. Because I get to be in this crazy big chaos that involves almost everyone on this planet and I get to fight the external uncertainties and inner demons with the privilege to not worry much about my health and safety. Because I get to reflect on my priorities, test my attachment to objects, perspectives, and lifestyles, and explore new ways of living that adhere to my values. Because I get to taste a bit of the power of meaning-making that Victor Frankl had described, only less excruciating and horrifying. In some way, if the essence of what I strive for is self-actualization and meaningful connections, I could go for those things under any circumstances, especially in an apocalypse.
Life is unpredictable; change is inevitable. Facing unexpected challenges is what makes our pursuits more meaningful. The first thing that shifted my mindset was seeing this global challenge as actually expected, perfectly normal. This is not the first time in history that the human race faced a crisis like this. Pandemics, natural disasters, financial crisis, they happen periodically just as a rhythm of life. I would have the myopic view that our lifestyle should stay the same all the time was only because I had forgotten all that human face had been through. When I think of what my grandparents had undergone during the Cultural Revolution and Great Chinese Famine, I feel chills in my back that I am so lucky to be born way after those. We all have so much strength passed down from our lineage that prepares us for similar challenges, evolutionarily speaking. Yet compared to my ancestors, I live in a world with better scientific technology, less authoritarian government, more personal freedom, and the internet. What can I complain about?
When I look back, I see that throughout my life I had brought in change and chaos intentionally many times. No matter if the outcome meets the expectations, I still not regret exploring. Joining an exchange student program in high school and leaving China. Choosing a liberal arts college and pushing through a double major. Moving to San Francisco and doing software engineering. Finding and co-starting a community house. Festivals. Psychedelics. Romantic partnership. Hosting workshops. Giving up my film school dream and answering my new calling in spirituality. Every time I followed my intuition and double-clicked on the alluring unknown, I lifted a veil of potentiality and inched in closer to a more realized self. As I learned more about the difference between my reality and my inspirations, I could then adjust my vision, modify my goals, and take the next move.
I learned that what I labeled “abusive parenting” was my parents trying their best at expressing their love and it was me who failed to see it and appreciate it. I learned that chasing what I had been conditioned to define as achievements were far less worthwhile than pursuing what uniquely made me joy. I learned that the sense of belonging in a community could mend the inner brokenness I thought would stay with me forever; and instead of playing the victim and complaining about the lack of community when I couldn’t find one, I could just build one where I go. I learned the importance of cleaning my room. Making my bed. Exercising. Eating healthy. All the things I used to dismiss but damn, mom was right. I learned about truly listening. True speaking. Compromising. Giving. Forgiving. I learned about seeing me in others and seeing others in me.
This time, I learned to recognize Change as a friend that came over uninvited. Instead of being annoyed at her not giving a heads up and ignoring my busy schedule, I could meet her with a surprised smile, hug her, welcome her and make time for her. She wouldn’t come uninvited if she didn’t have anything important to tell me. Since she’s here to stay for a while, let’s just hang and make our encounter the same joyful as usual.
Then I saw that she did not come empty-handed; she brought me gifts. Then I started to really appreciate her coming.
Gift of self-reflection:
The roller-coaster ride of my emotionality throughout the past six months was a just thing a thing that I would expect to be my forever storytelling material. It is almost amusing to me now how I easily became absorbed in anxiety. I panicked when one of my professors did not submit recommendation letters for me in time. I panicked when I learned I had to renew my visa in China and risked not being able to come back. I panicked when my flight was canceled. Every time I panicked, I fell into an abyss of hopelessness and decision-paralysis. It was through talking, journaling, and laughing about them that I saw the distinction of my fear and the controllable reality. Now in the back of my head I could replay the image of my partner talking to me and mocking baby voice, “Is life really hopeless michmich?”, which instantly makes me giggle. It’s all about being able to see my anxiety as a joke and accept myself as a baby.
Gift of connectedness:
For the first time in a long time, I have regular friend calls, to discuss meditation, psychotherapy, or just life. Weirdly I feel even closer to my friends because now we are consistently staying in touch. Oftentimes those calls become similar to peer coaching or peer therapy, fueling me with inspirations and comfort. When I hold space for other people or motivate them to step up in life, I often feel much less depressed and lethargic myself. We are just all the same, why do I pretend that I am the only one in misery?
Gift of discipline:
When I finally have more control of my time compared to any other period of my life. I suddenly found it overwhelming to manage. I spent many days sleeping nine to ten hours. I redesigned my morning routines many times and still could not guarantee to follow through every day. Yet I no longer identify as a disorganized person. My laptop folders, tabs, desktop files, physical desk, and drawers had never been cleaner. Since understanding the concept of compounding habits I have been also less guilty of implementing drastic changes overnight but tracking my performances and adjusting them little by little. Also setting systems instead of goals. Challenging limiting beliefs around my identity around discipline. Seeking out motivations externally and inwardly. Using willpower to do the initial pedaling and leveraging habits and environments to keep the momentum going. Most importantly, knowing the Why. Discipline is not a personality trait. It is the little things that build it all together.
Gift of community:
Living in two community houses was one of the biggest blessings. I know that this is the number one thing that keeps me sane. Towards the end of the “Real House” era, my housemates and I had several nourishing conversations and gatherings, including one dinner that we all contributed to resolving the conflict between two members. Tears, laughter, snuggles, silliness, wisdom, all unfolded that night. In the end, we all vividly felt the sense of living in real-life drama and that night was the season finale. When the crowd subsided, a housemate played the guitar singing a song of joy and melancholy with a few others chiming in, already reminiscing the memory of our growth together.
Gift of creativity:
Driven by the fear of loss of connection and fun in life, I put on four online events in March and April, each with a different topic and format. From a virtual Sad Party to a virtual Desire Playshop to womxn, it was extremely rewarding to build intimate spaces for togetherness. However in May I suddenly lose enthusiasm, most likely due to emotional chaos and committing to a schedule. After a pause, I tried to produce videos, yet ended up disliking my appearances and incoherence. I tried writing, and here I am, rejoining the flow of articulating and expressing myself. Thus I learned creativity is not just a fleeting bird that comes and goes without my control. It is a bird that desires to nest, and I need to prepare for a shelter to help it stays, give birth and revisit. Although seemingly contrasting traits, creativity needs patience and discipline.
And of course,
Gift of going-nowhere and doing-nothing-at-all:
I also have the belief that “I only deserve happiness if I am productive”. Now that I don’t have a job, I don’t have a travel bucket list to hit, and I don’t know the schedule of my graduate school, I could just be. It was quite strange, upsetting even, to wander around my neighborhood without following a direction in google maps the other day. I used to love exploring different streets and buildings of my hometown city when I was a teenager, spending hours walking aimlessly discovering little wonders that could be easily overlooked. It might be a hidden foreign novel upstairs bookstore or blooming flowers in a university corner. I had long lost this ability to find beauty and live in awe until quarantine forces me to take walks. Yesterday I sat on the doorsteps, soaking the sun and watching what was happening around me. The windows across the street displayed rainbow drawings to thank health care workers. The neighborhood kids were blowing bubbles and chasing each other. Their giggles, rustling leaves, and bird chirps permeate the trembling warm air. It even smelled warm and breezy, like my favorite kind of summer. l Suddenly, I realized that I did not need to travel to Bali or Costa Rica to seek exotic spiritual experiences that feed me inspiration or love. San Francisco could be exotic; Mission Dolores could be exotic. My backyard could be exotic. Just stop thinking I need to go anywhere and do something. And be.
At some point, life was about going towards somewhere to earn love. Then it became going towards somewhere to earn self-love. Then it became about going forward with the people I love. Then it became just going forward to spread love. At some point, it will become not having to go anywhere, and just love whoever comes.
Am I wise yet? Haha
