... falling asleep in Property law class. Must... stay... awake...

So, my grandomother is out of the hospital, apparently doing much better. I don't know the details yet: dad doesn't normally write really long emails.  That's good I guess-- it means she's healthy enough to be out of the hospital.  The whole neutropenic issue is still floating around-- I heard they were supposed to do a bone marrow aspirate at some point, but I don't know the results of that.

I guess we'll see what happens... I haven't had the chance to call back home yet and speak to her directly, because of the time difference.  That, and I'm sure that [Gramma] doesn't know the details of her condition anyways.

That's the kind of people my parents' generation are.  Maybe it's a lot of the reason why I started off as beleiving in "benevolent dictators" when I was growing up.  My parents, along with my uncles and aunts on my dad's side, are the kinds of people who would be willing to withold information from other members of the family because it's for their own good.  So-- even if Gramma, or anyone really, had a medical condition, their approach would be to peripherally control it without actually telling her.

Now that I think about it, maybe this is where I got the idea, when I was in college, that I wouldn't tell my parents that I'd switched from sciences to arts-- I didn't think they needed to know, and that they would be better off not knowing.

In my grandmother's case, I guess it's more or less justified-- but only because she wouldn't understand anyways.  Gramma's mind hasn't been as sharp as it has been decades ago-- she's 85 years old.  Explaining things like immune systems to her just won't do anything.  So I guess it's fine that she doesn't know.

 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

But what about me?

 

I'm halfway around the world from home, and I get this nagging feeling that people aren't telling me everything I want to know.  I get the feeling that they want me to do well during finals, so they're not telling me how serious things are.

In a strange way, it's not that I don't trust my family members.  But then again, to me, trust is a complicated idea.

It has to do with prediction, as opposed to expectation.   You can expect someone to do something, as in, this is what you want them to do-- however, is that what you predict they will do?

I know my family well enough to think that they're really looking out for the greater good.  The fact is, me knowing more doesn't change a thing.  What am I going to do from over here?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Anyways, one day at a time again.  I'll find out more soon enough.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Administrative law paper is done.  Draft of research proposal done.  I'm about a two full week behind on readings on account of paper writing, but relative to my peers, that's about on par for the course as we approach finals.  WIth the completion of Admin, that puts us at the point where it's just final exams to prepare for.

-=-=-=-=-=-

And I guess it is a stressful time, but at the same time, it's a very envigorating process. It really makes you feel alive, if only because the mechanics of the system are such that you're really at the cusp of death-- thus every action you take is one that clearly makes you feel like you're getting somewhere.   Am I looking forward to it?  I guess you might say I am, in a sorta sick way.  I wouldn't, if it weren't for classmates: because a lot of my enjoyment of the situation has to do with the drama of finals.  Raw emotions start coming up-- panic and fear are some of the more popular choices.

 It's delicous stuff, really!

-=-=-=-=-=-

I guess my obsession with emotion might seem a bit strange to you, but maybe that's an interesting topic to write about.

First, origins: Chinese Catholic upbringing.  There's a lot of stoicism in there, a lot of idealisation of the person who basically endures things without making too much of a fuss.  Jesus Christ.  Literally, not in vain. Perhaps it makes people more enduring, but I find that one of the pitfalls of that kind of disposition is that you lose any sense of direction.  When you don't react to situations, you basically keep trucking in one direction.  That's fine, if you're the son of God and have everything set out for you-- how many of you wouldn't love to have a life plan that all you had to do was stick on track with?

Encountering resistence, you just figure it's normal-- because that's what the stoic lifestyle is all about.  It's hard for a stoic to think that things might probably be done differently, because somewhere along the line a decision about "the goal" was made and everything is framed in light of that final destination.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

In a strange way, through it's single-mindedness, self-destruction is a byproduct of stoicism-- probably because stoics lose touch of what makes them happy. They become fixated on the mission, and because of the ups and downs of life, moments spent not advancing towards this task make things feel like a waste of time. This becomes really tough when you haven't identified just what the mission is-- you're just blindingly stumbling along, reacting to the symptoms of your subconscious (that more or less knows) getting sick of your incompetence.

At least, this was the case for me.

I think I got to that point when I was in college, where I might been trying to identify just what it was that I wanted.  I didn't find it in alcohol, but I did find it in fighting and videogames.  More then than now, I also found it in literature, and writing.  When I was in highschool, it was somewhere in music. 

 

And what was it that I was constantly in pursuit of, but had never taken the time to identify?  It turns out, even today, it's quite hard to define-- because if I could, I would own it. If I could only name it, and explain how I saw the world perfectly, it would mean that I had a perfect understanding of it.

I don't.

 

However, I can tell you this-- it has something to do with the energy of life, and nowhere is that chi or chakra more apparent than in spirit.  Oftentimes, spirit manifests itself through emotion.

And that's why I say, emotion is important.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Unfortunately, the easiest emotion, really, is anger.  Videogaming and sparring  was, to me, really all about exhausting agressive energies. 

The stereotype of angsty youths is there for a reason-- it's because at a certain age in every western kid's life, there's a coincidence of indepdent means,  boredom, and energy.   And the easiest emotion to funnel through? 

 

Well, for me it was anger.  Of course, results might vary.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 Rage is an incredible thing.  I'm not saying this to sound like a total sociopath, or a psychopath.  I'm saying this because, in my opinion, it is the easiest of emotions to give into.  Love is difficult unless you've found someone to love.  Happiness is difficult unless you have something to be happy about.  But don't we all know it? COme on, we're bloggers: it's easy to bitch.  Bitching just the manifestation of anger-- anger is the springing up of an emotional revulsion at a state of affairs.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

What changed my emotion of choice is working at the Montreal Chest Institute.  I met a lot of interesting people there, but the majority of them were patients.  When I first started working there, I really took the time to get to know patients.  Because my grandparents only speak chinese, and chinese remains one of my worst languages, I've never really had that experience that I see on television of getting 'grandparents' advice.'  Most of the patients at the Chest were older people, many of them with terminal lung diseases.

It was confusing at first.  It was confusing that, although some patients were rude and in denial (which fit into my worldview of anger), there were many more that were not.  Not angry.  Yet not stoic.  Just-- going about life.  SOmetimes they were happy, in a happy reminiscent way.

 

And how could people be happy, knowing they were going to die?  As young, aimless person, who only had my future to look forward to, it seemed like a contradiction.

There was something different between them and I, and it's something they taught me-- it has to do with which side of the fence you're on, and which patch of grass you want to be chewing on.

 

Despite that I'm one of the oldest in my program (most of my peers started postgrad law straight after their undergrads) I'm still pretty young when you think about it. I'm not even 30 yet.   I think a great source of my anger in my teens was the fact that, a decade ago, I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea of the possibilities.  All I saw were obstacles in terms of the narrowly defined Chinese Catholic goals I grew up with.  If you saw nothing but a huge mess ahead of you in the way of something that seemed impossible far, you'd be angry too, wouldn't you?

But people who are about to die, which way are they looking?  Are they looking forward, or backwards? 

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

If they're in a lot of pain, they look forward-- they want it to end.  If things are going okay-- they tend to look backwards, at the good times and the great times, and in so looking, they realise that they had the best of times.

Either way, what comes with age is basically knowing how to look.

 

Knowing how to look is half about identifying something external, and half about identifying something internal.  That is to say, being satisfied at finding something has to do with an intersection of the external world and an internal want.  If you can't find it outside, you can work on that.  But if you can't find it inside? Well, ironically, sometimes you find things outside before you find them inside.

Maturity, ultimately, has to do with the ability increase the likelihood of syncing these two activities.

And that's what made a lot of these people happy.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

And when their mind wanders to those times? You see it: the emotion, as they relive those memories.  Libraries upon libraries of stories, in every one of those people.  You see how moments of the present trigger a return to memory-- something in the present aligns with something in their minds and hearts.  And then?  The look.  They look at things around them suddenly as if it's what they've always been looking for.

-=-=-=-=-=-

 And when you think about the way memory works, your eyes are a big photocopy machine.  You take things from the outside world, without taking them, and you keep a copy for yourselves.

 

In that sense, we have an extraordinary capacity to keep a library-- a library of experiences within us.  So when you want something?  When you want an emotion?  You look at your experiences-- you pull an emotion from the shelf.  ANd then you align it with the present-- and find something about the present that just makes sense, that is just what you're looking for.  You know it in you, not by the specifics, but by it's substance, and then you find it in the world outside of you.

So maybe that's what this is all about.

If you compared me now to who I was a decade ago, you'd find that I'm a lot more together nowadays.  To the point where revisiting my old self, frankly, feels a bit embarrassing.  Nowadays,  I know who I am. I have a defined sense of what I want.  Or at least... to put it more accurately, the amount that I want to know about myself and what I want of myself is in tune with what I already know.  Everything just builds on everything else.

The Administrative Law paper I'm writing is finally coming together.

 

One thing at a time, I keep telling myself.

 

I had a bit of a breakdown the other day. I called home because an email from my mom told me that my grandmother is in the hospital for a red blood cell count of like 47. Normally, you're supposed to have the number at about 150 or so.

 

A transfusion fixed that, and [Gramma] was immediately looking a lot better-- as if she'd been rewound a couple of years, my mom tells me. Swearing at people, insisting that she wanted her bags so she could pack up and go back home. The problem is they don't know what's going on with her bone marrow, which is normally where blood is generated. Transfusions would normally fix that the blood count, but the problem is neutrofil. Gramma's blood has almost no neutrofil in it, and it's not something that gets transfused with blood either.

 

The job of neutrofil is to fight infections-- so basically, Gramma's immune system is very close to being totally offline. If it does go offline, like anybody with an auto-immune deficiency, even a common cold becomes something immeasurably dangerous.

 

I found this out at about 7:45 in the morning, Sydney time. When I got off the phone, I got back in bed with [CM] and basically wept. And then headed out to school for a 9AM class.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Aside from tackling the administrative law paper, due tomorrow, I've got a research proposal due on Saturday. I'm off my game, just finding it rather hard to concentrate. I went to run the Baduk Club yesterday, and played like shit. I played [VP], who in the past has been able to beat me; but I should have been able to beat him, had I not made about 3 major mistakes. I played one of the beginners and won, but again: I made huge, easy mistakes on several occasions. I had intended to go boxing, but somehow, lost one glove by the time Baduk was over (and what would I do at a boxing club with just one glove?)

 

My parents asked me to come back to Montreal right after final exams. Considering that lawschool costs me as much as it does, the plane tickets we'll be buying for a high season rate will make it hard for us to afford me going back in September to celebrate [Zanshin]'s wedding.

 

So yeah, it's been a pretty great past few days. Or something.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

I'm not ready to start thinking too much about Gramma in the past tense just yet. I'm not at that stage where I want to reminisce and all that. She's still alive, she's still well. I've still got work to do.

 

I just need to stay focused.

 

Finishing the first draft of my admin has given me a bit of a moral boost. I just need to keep the momentum up. Get past these two deadlines first, and then take it from there.

When I was in first semester of Law School, I was assigned a tutor.  It was an extra little bonus for International law students.  My tutor, [Marino], was a German who a few years ago apparently spoke terrible English.

I didn't learn much about the law, but he did teach me about a lot of random life things-- in a way, he was more of a mentor than he was a tutor.

"It's a jungle.  It's an endurance sport, that's what law is," he explained, more than once.  "It is not just whether you know your material-- it's not just brains, but it's your body.  It's how well you can deal with stress, and how you push through suffering."

And it's true.  The amount of work that is assigned to a student in law school is, frankly, insane.  It's not humanly (or, for that matter, humanely) possible for a student to ever do all the work that prescribed.  If you did nothing but do schoolwork in all your time outisde of school?  You'd go insane-- the basic mechanics of your brain would break down.  Depression would ensue.  Chemical and hormonal balances as a result of sleep deprivation and poor eating will compound the effects.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

So, just as much as it is about hard work, law school is about time management-- and that means taking the time to specifically not work.  And unwind.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

To be honest, I'm not sure what I'd do without [CM] in my life.

This morning, I woke up and checked my mail.  Usually, I wake up before CM.  Left to our natural devices, she'll usually sleep about 10 hours, wheras I'll usually sleep for 7 or 7.5.  I checked my mail-- apparently my grandmother is in a hospital back home due to a low blood count.  Transfusion has made things better and she's feeling much better now, so that's good.  But she's still under observation, and while anyone is in a hospital....

I've worked these places.  Things happen.  People who work in hospitals are generally good people who try their best-- but you never know.  Despite being comfortable in all realities of hospital environments, the truth is, when it's personal, it's personal.



I sometimes tell myself simply, "there's nothing you can do-- put it out of your mind."  But that kind of utilitarian taoism denies the strength and importance of human connections.

At the same time-- I've got so much on my plate right now.  I've been waffling about putting the final touches on an Administratie Law paper due Friday, and I haven't had any time whatsoever to start the research proposal that's due on Saturday.  I'm not sure how the news about Grandma is affecting me, because it happens on a subconscious level, but I know that it'll start showing symptoms soon.  And I don't know if I have time for those symptoms.

A lot of people who know me closely will probably say that I'm extremely strong willed, and have a lot of mental toughness.  Relatively speaking, I think this is true-- but what it also means is that in the situations where I do feel oppressed, they're circumstances that are pretty damn tough that nobody can help me with.  Situations of oppression to me are things that only I can take care of, because it's a question of trucking on.

Depression?  I do get depressed every now and then-- or just overwhelmed, however you want to put it.  WHen I'm depressed, my personality is frankly poisonous.  I don't like feeling sorry for myself, so I tend to refocus any feelings of inadequacy and grief into anger and cynicism.  Green grass and flowers wilt in my wake.


It's old news, really-- I'm no stranger to all that.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The difference this time around is that at the end of every night and at the beginning of every morning, CM is the person in front of me.  She helps me to add balance to my life.  She anchors me in simpler times that we share, despite the complexities of the responsibilities demanded  of us.

In another life, if I was in this situtaiton, I might get through it all, but at the cost of becoming, irrecoverably, a little less human with each joule of anger I rely on.

Now?  Now it's not so bad to just feel a bit down, because the fact that someone is there to pick me up makes things nice.  I mean, certainly, I shouldn't overdo it, but for what it is, it is nic

The expression "First World Problem" didn't really exist when I was growing up, but now it's something more and more prevalent.  Like all cliches, there's actually a fair amount of depth to the subject.  Someone says "first world problems" when they can't decide what to have for lunch.  But someone also says it when they don't know what kind of job they want, what kind of future they're aiming for, or even if they want to get out of bed.

 

And then we laugh-- in the slightly excessive, deffensive way, that says, maybe we should just change the subject.  Maybe if we put it under the rug, the dust mites will take care of it for us and it'll be gone the next time we check.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

The more people I meet, the more iterations of a common theme: people aren't happy.  That's got it's two sides, of course-- not being happy could mean depression, apathy, and a ticket to be selected out.  On the other hand, not being happy could also be the little nudge we need for change.

Happiness, really, is kind of a non-issue once you understand it.  It's not necessarily about more-- more and less are actually just two pathways to the same destination.  The destination is a state of being where you are perfectly yourself, and in tune with your environment.  For some, that means more, and for some that means less-- but once you get to that point, even if for just a while, you realise that there's more to happiness than just pleasure and entertainment.  There's more to it than owning more.  There's more to it than reductionism, or moral highground-- there is just a state of being, to quoth the narrator of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, that is just right.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

That said, if we are unhappy, there's no way around it: we need to do something about it.

An Asian Judeo-Christian upbringing has me rooted in a tradition of turning the other cheek.  Shit happens?  Endure it.  Good things happen to those who have patience.

 

Like all maxims though, it needs updating.  Who says endurance has to be static?  German forces in World War II were legendary for discipline and endurance-- but they didn't stay in one place.  In fact, Panzer (German "Panther" tanks) campaigns were the backbone of the blitzkreig movement.  Yes, we know we can take punishment-- so if that's the case, why not get out of the corner and advance?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

It's a simple fighting truth that the best defence is a good offence.  Put yourselves in the shoes of the bully for an instant-- who is the more dangerous target?  The kid who just covers his head, and eats everything you throw at him/her (and I include her, because this applies equally to the ladies); or the kid who eats everything, and keeps coming at you?

There is something inherently frightening about someone who damage and comes back for more, as if they're waiting for an opportunity to just hand your ass back to you at any moment.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

I have this conversation with a lot of people, and I'm often met with dismissals.  That same "first world problem" sorta nervous laguther and "lets change the subject."  I won't lie-- my life has been framed in part by the physical weakness of my youth.  I'm talking more and more about it nowadays because I'm coming to terms with it.  Working with patients of all ages, and working with colleagues of all ages-- in both subordinate and leadership roles-- just tells me how important community is, because of the inherent fragility of humans.

I don't have a solution for everyone.  If I could make a suggestion, there are a few things that everyone in life should do.  If some day I have kids, I'll make sure they have these experiences.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

One of these experiences is that I think everyone should have a good yell, that comes from the soul.  And then have another.  And then over the course of an hour or so, allow yourself to be so swept away with the rawness of an emotion that it just quite frankly seems natural.  Scene from Final Fantasy X?  I guess that's a start.  It's not exactly what I mean, but it's got the same idea at heart-- and that is to express yourself.  Not necessarily in words-- but when the feeling surges in you, you just put it outside of you.  Exhale.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Another one experiences is to put yourself in a situation at the verge of collapse, where others will be able to help you.  A group of my friends from law school are training for a half marathon-- that's a great idea.  Beautiful minds are one thing, but without a temple to safely enshrine it, even that is vulnerable.  Working with a team you can trust is great like that-- if you're with the right people, you learn that you're not alone.  You learn that hardships are shared, and that people care about you making it through.

You are not alone.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Perhaps the biggest experience that I advocate though is the realization, to the contrary of what I just said, that you are alone.

Methods may vary.  Martial arts has been a source of that for me.  Beign humbled in martial arts is really an act of isolation-- when you're getting schooled, you feel very alone because nobody is going to block for you, nobody is going to punch for you, nobody is going to breathe for you.  You have to do it all on your own.

When you're getting the shit kicked out of you, sometimes the odds are so far against you that there's nothing you can do-- except to decide to advance through your loss.  What I mean to say is, there are people who take a loss and go belly up right away.  They quit.  And there are those who lose, while fighting-- I mean, knowing that they're not going to win in any way most of the audience will care, but fighting as if they still had a chance.

I mean this rather metaphorically-- I'm not saying you should go out there and get the tar beaten out of you.  That's just unhealthy, and stupid.  But what I am saying is that often, we don't take responsibility, and we sell ourselves short.  The truth is, we're by nature undisciplined.  Maybe closer to the truth: we're lazy as fuck.

 

The reason why I advocate fighting is because it is a real life metaphor that very simply analogises the solutions to first world problems.  The solution: do something.

 

When you're cornered, covering your head, and someone is just pummeling you.  When you're on the ground, you're starting to black out, because you're being choked out.  What do you suppose is the correct response?  Wait for something good to happen?

 

Or maybe, if you're going to take a beating, you should go down swinging?  Instead of just prolonging the inevitable, if you would only just make a fist and attack your problem, you might be surprised to see the problem back down, even if just a bit.  You might realize that if, instead of vainly trying to see if your blood pressure is strong enough to keep you conscious through the choke, that maybe you should get those damn legs and arms off you altogether so that you can breathe.

 

In a fight situation, there is a simple reality: you're responsible.  If you want to get head, you have to fight.  If you want to get out of a jam, you have to fight.  Nobody will do it for you.

Once you get a taste for it, that is to say, the knowledge that everyone can fight, then life becomes exponentially more interesting.  Not only do you find unfathomable depth in your own character which gives you NOX to go after anything, you also can appreciate others more-- because their characters are also characterised primarily by the things they take responsible for.

Don't like getting bullied?  Well then-- fight back, for chrissakes.  I could potentially have plenty of respect for losers, as defined by not winning without regard for effort; but I have little if any tolerance for cowards, as defined by irresponsibility.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Okay, so some people are just too squeamish for martial arts.  And it's true, one day I'll be to old for this shit. But, there's always something out there.  Something that makes you feel alive, something that wants to burst out of your chest. A something of soul that doesn't want to be subverted or subordinate. 

 

Yeah, okay, fighting isn't for everyone.  Neither is life I guess.  (Is that a first world problem?)