Outrageous heart
Be bold.
Hold firm.
Less from him, less be told

Outrageous heart,
Be strong.
Knowing and holding, be strong
More of Her, more of you
Best declare, best be bold

Time unraveled
Stories gleaned
Heart un-contained, makers be free

Audacious heart,
Be
Tall and firm, listen.
Shakers released, it’s unrefined
Her heart complete
This moment, less dross
and more mine.

Umm, helping middle schoolers find their definition of home?

Back in Taipei for the weekend, the city clothes and jewelry I felt weren’t necessary for volunteer life were right where I had left it. My Grandmother's apartment in Taipei felt like home, or at least I thought of it that way. I went to the gym, made dinner plans and bought grass-jelly drink from my favorite place. It reminded me of when I would come “home” to a familiar backpackers in Pretoria from rural village life, or my parents house from UC Irvine or San Francisco, seeking and buying comfort and familiarity and finding friends and belongings right where I left it - with a thin layer of dust covering it.

I’m realizing that I’m always finding some place to run off to, some place I think is better than ‘home’, however, never committing to calling it 'home' and longing for the comforts of my previous dwelling - which I don’t entirely call 'home' as well, but say I am 'homesick' for. Whether it’s at my grandma’s in Taipei or at my parents’ in Chatsworth, I seem to define my “home” as a place where I could have endless fruit, walk around barefoot, laugh really really loud, sleep in, buy things “I need,” and use a large plushy towel everyday. But in the end, I know it is temporary and try to glean as much comfort and enjoyment as I can. I guess home to me is like a mini-vacation. I am tired. I am very very tired.

But when I’m back into my daily routine and living my “real-life” it is also temporary. I'm thinking that after Tucson, I am done. I’m making a home. I want a garden, I want true community, I want to see the same people everyday without feeling guilty that I am leaving, and I want to have MANY large plushy towels. I want to paint a wall crimson red and not think, “Why? I’m moving soon.”

When I meet people in Taiwan, words like courageous, daring, and independent are often used to describe me. I want to laugh and say, “if only you knew…” It’s also funny because I wish to be described with words like patient, humble, and grounded. I’ve been thinking about why stability and being grounded seems so far from my grasp. When I pray, I often ask God to squeeze me firmly. Yes, to me now, this is great stability - being held very tightly.

Tomorrow I am supposed to share with seventy 9th graders about how to be self-sufficient independent thinkers. When the principal was telling me what she wanted me to say she kept saying, “Like you, like YOU, so independent, successful and you’ve gone so many places - you make decisions for yourself!” “Our students are too dependent on their parents, they used to parents telling them what to do!”

If my head was cracked open and preserved like a Damien Hurst piece the principal would have seen capital “UUMMMMMM’s” floating around. I wanted to interrupt her and say, “UUUMMMMMMM, ummmmmmm…”

Ummmmm. What the hell am I supposed to tell those kids? My values are always conflicting with each other. Not just conflicting, they're at a constant Battle with each other. All kinds. Break-dancing, war, spoken-word - ALL KINDS OF NO-WIN BATTLES. Although I don’t always agree with the traditional Taiwanese education system, I believe there is a ton of merit to it. At the end of the day, you DO need to memorize the multiplication table and test taking IS a useful skill. It’s also difficult to compare my background with theirs. I grew up with gumballs on Fridays, “there is no wrong question,” and “follow your heart, do what you love!” Yes, roaming the world, spending money, and taking pictures with pink turtles is fun and all...

But can you imagine, a 9th grade Chinese boy telling his father he loves hair and wants to be a stylist? And doing what you love is a potential risk and challenge – stability, comfort, and familial support could be lacking, and currently those things are pretty freakin gosh darn capital-A appealing to me.

The “UUUMMMM’s” are still ringing hard inside my head. I want to tell them that they are okay for being obedient and respectful to their parents. That it is temporary and a college degree is just a college degree. They will have ample time to travel, make decisions for themselves, and follow their dreams. I want to tell them that the hard stuff is loneliness, feeling disconnected from the majority, loss of identity and purpose, and difficulty communicating with family – all of which they may never have to experience as long as they stray as far away from my past ideals as possible. FAR, I should tell them. See Joy and run.

I am tired. Being loved and taken care of does not sound so bad. I know I can have both, but I’m talking about my mom’s ideals and what I’ve “ewwwed” for years – the working husband that provides, and the encouraging mother that makes great Chinese food. I wouldn’t mind being that woman, I really wouldn't. I would be different, I would compost and take graduate courses at night. I’ve also always wanted to learn how to make Chinese food. And those children, they would hug me back.