365 Days of Rest

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The election is over.

But our lives have just begun. The election sparked a passion within me to make a difference in the world. As the numbers came in I actually started crying, crying turned to weeping and found my soul anguished. Perhaps it was Spirit within me or my personal desire connected to the election. This went deeper than I thought. Perhaps my desire to see a woman become president was a personal desire to see my own life blossom into the impossibilities of humanity. And perhaps it was the last straw for everything I had envisioned for this year.

All of this came into apex of surrender.

I would have to surrender my personal desire and trust that God would protect, empower and push me towards the direction that even I could no longer envision for myself. Because we put too much hope in one person. We thought that maybe the “Right person” could save us, and the truth is we put not only the president on a pedestal, we put “finding the perfect spouse”, “finding the right opportunity”, breaking our personal goals on a pedestal, but all of that is fleeting in the light of perfect peace in each moment.

I have been reading 365 Devotions For Finding Rest and it has helped me to find solace in times of turmoil. I find my soul crying out for justice, for peace, for joy, for restoration. I’ve been in months of surrender and rest, saying “no” to things, opportunities, people. Letting the season pass so that the right things and people could enter my current realm.

Asking me to be still is like asking a lion not to run free with strength, but in the stillness I find the ache in my heart heal steadily.

 

German Born Taiwanese American

What? Yes, I was born in Germany, but am Taiwanese, and I consider myself Taiwanese American since I’ve been in America for 20 years.

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My best friend next to me and some who knows who the creep that is boy next to me in kindergarten. Hamburg, Germany.

Since we are all talking about race here…I didn’t know I was that different until I came to America. I got made fun of for being “FOB- fresh off the boat” by Asian Americans and some whites. I was a little confused because I thought the term was used for Asians born in Asian countries, but I guess it didn’t really matter. Alas, now the term is a TV show, thanks to the Great America, wrought with “racial freedom”.

Anyhow, when I realized I was different….you see in Taiwan, I fit right in because we were young…and in Germany too, when you are young you don’t see people through racial differences, you see them as playmates, people. 

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Me being solemn in the back. Yes, I’m holding a rose. Taipei, Taiwan.

I started listening to music that talked about degrading women instead of the love songs of Japanese and Taiwanese culture….so like instead of “I love who you are” to “put it up her ass” kind of songs. So there you go, the transition.

I was confused.

I started rejecting a part of myself and assimilated quickly. 

All my best friends were Asian American, but deep down, I was an alien that somehow adopted the idea of being AA. Because I didn’t feel like them. I didn’t care about getting into a good college as much as they did, I was glad I didn’t go to after school, I didn’t want to settle down and live in the same city….I’m not saying all of them cared about the same things, but their parents sure did. 

My mom wanted a good future for me, but I think deep down she knew she was different too. So we moved after I graduated and I went to a fashion school.

Recently, I started realizing all the books I’m reading are by white people, mainly white women since I’m reading self help books. Also the TV shows, the films I watch have mainly white people as protagonists. I got really sick of it and started searching out foreign films. Yesterday I watched a Cantonese film, my heart felt a little warmer. 

You see, the guys I dated were white or mexican, mixed, or white, or ethnically mixed….confused too ethnically. Like me. With Asian Americans I felt different, in Taiwan, I was Americanized, too blunt, I felt comfy with Germans, Europeans, but still I was facially Asian. My ex used to make fun of me for saying a word wrong. But now, I don’t know anyone around me who writes as much as I do.

No one understands the feeling of having hot pot after months of European food like I do. It is pure bliss. My friends and I bring shin ramen on our backpacking trips. I searched out Asian restaurants in Paris. That’s how much my heart longs for Asian food. My blood consists of hot soup.

There is nothing wrong with trying to accommodate for the changes in your life ….but to neglect and ignore, and to push down a part of you means scarring your heart. 

I value family, I value honor and respect. But only to an extent….because what I learned from America is that you must love yourself too, not sacrifice your heart to serve everyone else (more Asian….the concept of Sacrifice). 

So I suppose I am one of a kind. And I don’t need to become more white, in fact, I’d like to stay the way I am, and own the FOB parts of me.

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Another Germany picture.