Just an Ordinary Person

Being different, and finally, slowly, coming into acceptance, of one’s own physical conditions, translated…

I was, diagnosed with vitiligo, and been in treatment for over three years up to date.

Actually, having this condition really doesn’t affect my overall health status, but, there would be, patches of white, irregular-shaped chunks that showed up on my skin. And, if the chunks were so place apparent, then, it’d caused me to become, the center of attention. And, the curiosities, interests shown toward my condition, even making fun of the way I appeared, had always, caught me, off guard each and every time.

My white spots were located around my ears and neck, and when I was quite young, I’d not, minded it at all, but as I got older, the area grew larger, and became more, and more, noticeable, plus, the friends, relatives, and those I knew would show concerns from time to time, along with the strangers’ looking at me weird, I’d started, feeling more and more self-abased, worried, that I’d, looked like a monster in other people’s eyes.

At first, I was, naïve to believe, that I’d only needed a year’s worth of treatments, to get rid of it completely, for once and for all, but, it’d been, over three years to date, but, the patches only, shrunk in size by a little bit. And as my stresses from day to day grew, and I’d needed to, head to the hospitals to get treated, my patience became, spent, by all of my negative moods, and I’d, wanted to give up the treatment procedures, but, I couldn’t, walk out into the world, with my white spots, and face everyone else in the world, and so, I can only, grit down my teeth, and continue on in treatment.

Sometimes, I’d wondered, did I do something awful, so God felt compelled, to brand me, with these, white markings on my body? In the nights, I’d, bowed my head down to God, vowed, that I will, change my ways, to NOT be as aloof as I’d always been to the outside world, prayed, that he could, stop torturing me. But, as I’d realized, that praying to God doesn’t do SQUAT, I’d started crying in the nights, and, blamed the heavens for giving me this misfortune in life, and, blamed the world for being, so unfriendly.

But, after all these years, I’d slowly, walked out of the gloom, because, I’m not the only one who’s, suffering, my family needed to take me to the hospitals for treatment, and, after their hard days of work, they’d needed to, keep the energies up, to take me to the hospital, and, seeing how there are, little to no improvements to my conditions, they’re, stressed out too. And, how can I, keep on, living in self-pity, and affecting their moods endlessly too? Isn’t this the time, that I should, flash my radiant smiles at them?

I’d rarely, disclosed my condition actively to others, and I’d often, hidden myself, mask myself up, hoping, that nobody sees that I’m, different. But, now I’d, bravely, decided, to write it all out, so more can see, hoping, that it helps bring about more understanding between people in the world, then, the next time, you all come face to face, with those who are, biologically, or psychologically different than you, then, you can, show them more tolerance, and respect too.

I, am not weird, just like you, I’m, an ordinary person too.

And so, this, is how long it’d taken, for this person, to see herself as is, because her physical conditions, she’d felt that she was, inferior to everybody else in the world, because of her conditions, she’d, felt troubles from before, because people who don’t know her kept inquiring, and it’d, caused her stress, but now, after seeing how much her family was, putting in, to take care of her, she’d, decided, to change her perceptions of her own condition, and, it’d, helped her, adapt better, because at least, she’s, slowly, coming to, accepting herself as is, and, that, is the MOST important thing of all, accepting yourselves, because if you don’t, how can you ask the rest of the world to, and this woman, had already, taken her very FIRST step toward becoming, a better version of herself!


From an “Outsider” to Being a Member of His Family

The brickworks, laid by the husband, to make his wife look good in front of his own parents, and the wife is learning the ways of her husband’s home too, and, because the foundation by the husband was lain well, that is why, she’s, getting perfectly along, with her in-laws now, translated…

Back then, as my husband took along his parents to my home to ask my father for my hand, my father who’d, spoiled me like a princess, kept bloating and bragging about how good I was, like I was, out of my husband’s league. During which time, I saw my in-laws who’s not the least bit articulate held their straight faces, but still, smiled courteously.

After I married, my father-in-law treated me, “the Princess” and “daddy’s girl” with great courtesy, never asked me to perform any actions. And, as my husband and I moved out of their house, my father-in-law came by to see our place, and, turned back to my mother-in-law, “Come by to clean up this place for them at another time!”, once I’d gone to my in-laws’ for supper, and, I was slicing up some radish, and accidentally, cut off my nail, and I’d let out a yelp, my father-in-law came, and, I’d gotten my mother-in-law nagged by him, “Just do it yourself, how could she know how to handle these sorts of household chores?”

My mother-in-law treated my father-in-law’s words like they’re, from God, and ever since, she’d treated me with a ton of kindness, never let me into the kitchens to help out with the chores, and had, come to our home from time to time, to clean up after us. And, although I’d felt, blessed by this “gift”, I felt, a bit upset too—I’d felt, that I was, treated like, an outsider, and not a member of my husband’s family.

My husband is the quiet type, rarely talked to his parents, he’d refused, to give them the money he saved up to serve them in person, and I was, the middleman of the deliveries. And, every month as my mother-in-law received the envelope, she’d kept pushing it back into my hands, and thanked us repeatedly, and, through time, this “pushing the envelope” became, a time we’d shared together, and, through our conversations, my mother-in-law learned, that I, who was cherished by my father like a princess, wasn’t locked up in an ivory tower at all, that I was someone with whom she could have great conversations with.

And slowly, anything that’s occurred in my in-laws, I was the very first one my parents-in-law called up, whether it be businesses at the banks, or, needing a replacement of the old appliances, they’d discussed it with me, their daughter-in-law, instead of their own son. And, naturally, I’d loved, being, a “window” for helping my in-laws with the nitty-gritties of their lives, and so, they’d not, seen me, as an outsider anymore!

Once, my husband’s aunt who lived alone, and was under economic duress came to my place to pour her heart out to my mother-in-law, I was using the internet inside the study, and suddenly, I’d heard my mother-in-law stated, “Take these……it’s okay! We have more than enough, my daughter-in-law had given me money to keep……yeah, she’s, truly, wonderful! We have more to talk about than the conversations I’d had with my son!” I’m more than certain, that my mother-in-law who’s a straight shooter, wasn’t saying it because I was in the next room and can hear her.

Perhaps, I have my husband to thank, he’d told my mother-in-law, that I was the one, putting in the money to give to them per month, that he wasn’t the one putting up the money, and, although I’d still not gotten a handle on how to do the household chores well, but I’m noted as a good daughter-in-law in the neighbors’ and the relatives’ minds. Perhaps, I should be grateful, that my husband is very strong and silent, because of his quiet, his cherishing every word that came out of him, I’d become, the family with whom my in-law felt comfortable, telling things to.

So you see, the reason why this mother and daughter-in-law got along quite well is because of the son’s doing. The man had, paved the way for his own wife, to work as a “public relations” between his own wife and his own parents, and, that is a good husband does, being kind to his parents, and at the same time, acting as a bridge between his parents, AND his own wife, after all, the household harmony is the most important thing, when you live in a sort of an extended family like this, isn’t it???

Traveling Together, Making Memories

Children are, growing up, so fast now, and before you know it, they don’t need you anymore, and they’d, stopped, wanting you, the parents, to tag along! Translated…

These past couple of years, I kept, wanting to travel with my children again.

When they were younger, every season, we’d find opportunities, to head out together, or to go to the theme parks away from home to visit, or the National Parks, it didn’t matter if the locations were far or near, how long the trips were, or if we’d gone to the theme parks or not, the focus was, in making more memories of the time we spent together as a family.

With their coming of age, their course loads became, heavier, and, there’s, not many chances we get to, head out to travel as a whole family, and slowly, when I’d, invited them along, they’d, had that look of difficulty on their faces, even as I was only asking them to head out for a walk with me. I knew my children loved staying at home, and that there are, many reasons for them to not go out, but, although, I’d, intentionally, ignored, I’d had to admit, “the parents’ dates of expiration had, passed”, they’d started, focusing more on gathering up with their friends.

I understood the minds of teens’ wanting to hang with their friends, looking back at my self, it’d started for me, around this age too, the companions I had shifted from families to friends, then, due to school, work, going abroad, and, I’d, stopped, hanging out with my parents, or siblings, this was, merely, a transition into the adulthood years, nothing more.

But, even so, I’d still hoped, to go out with my children again. After a while, in this desire of mine, I seemed, to have caught a glimpse of my own parents, aren’t they also wondering, when they will be, traveling all around, with their own young once more?

Ahhhhh, I guess, I need to, plan a trip with mom and dad this next time then.

And so, this, is the attitude adjustment of this parent, from when her kids were still younger, to adjusting herself as her kids are, older, and, how the children wanted to, hang with their friends more, than their parents or grandparents, and this reminded the writer, that she may need to, shift her focus, to traveling with her own aging parents, instead of, keeping hoping, that her kids will, travel with her, because the kids are only, growing older by the day, you CANNOT have those innocent children who’d, relied on you 24/7 back again!!!


Slow & Steady Wins the Races

What this man learned, from his own old habits, and adjusted himself according to the right paces, regained his healthy, became, even healthier than he was before! Translated…

The Experience from That Time Made Me Realized, that I’m a Middle-Aged Person, without the Assets to Spend Carelessly, in Order to Regain My Healthy Status, I’d Started, Running………

Pulling Myself BACK, Toward the Right Tracks

During the summer when I was thirty-two, due to long-term fatigued, I’d, fallen very ill. I’d rarely seen any doctors, and was, taken to this Chinese medicine doctor who’s very good at treating the patients, and I’d also, bought, a ton of expensive Chinese medications. It was a shocking experience, that I’d become, a middle-aged man, without the assets to spend carelessly now, in order to regain my health, I’d started, jogging.

Recalling that very first time I’d gone to the track fields to run, as I was about to finish my first lap around, I’d become, too out of breath that I’d felt, dizzy, and I’d, managed, to bite down very hard, and finished five laps total, as I’d gone home to shower, I’d felt, that strong sense of fatigue, like I’d, just played basketball on the courts for hours. Holy! Am I, that unfit? Thankfully, my will in research had, helped me find a way quick, a lot of the elders who ran told me, “the best speed to which you run, is one that you can chat with others, and not feel, out of breath.”

illustration from the papers…圖/大裘米like a metronome, you just, kept on, ticking, ticking, ticking, and ticking away…

At first, it wasn’t, easy, for me to understand how, I’d thought, when I’m running, I’m not compelled, to chat with anybody, but I’d still, tried, to slow my own pace down, to the point that I was, about, to doze off (yes, that was, also the runners I’d met had advised me to do too!)…………so, I ran, and ran, and ran, and, suddenly, I’d, understood, what they were, talking about, because your body will let you know, what speed is most comfortable for it. Whether it be in life or at work, finding that right pace, then, you will be able to, work, in the most efficient manner.

At age 36, we had a new addition to the family, a one-and-a-half year-old baby boy, it’d, altered my life very much. What stressed me out was when our son was sent to the nanny’s, and I’d, needed to, return back to work at my desk, I’d always felt sleepy, and couldn’t focus, just wanted to watch some junk footages, or, text the useless information to my friends. I’d thought it was, just a transitional thing, but, for a long time, my productivity had, dropped, it’s time, to think of ways, to get my pace back again.

First, the “pace to writing”, I’m used to jotting down the tips and the clues that came, then, while that’s all fresh in my mind, I’d, done my first draft. But, as I’d, turned into a father, I’d often left the clues, but, after awhile, those things I’d written down became, meaningless to me. And, even as I’d, sat myself down, to think hard on what I was going to write about, I’d gotten, disrupted in my pace, and I’d, sat, dumbfounded, staring, at my computer screen, then, I’d turned on, those, junk movies, to pass the time.

So, I’d, decided, to change my own manners, whenever there’s a thought, no matter what I was working on at the moment, I’d, forced myself, to write it all out, like I would in journaling. I’d just, written things down, and didn’t care if what I wrote down was, precise and clear, at least, that way, I was, able to, record down how I was feeling at that very moment, and, as I’d, returned later, to reread it, I can have the choices, and the basis. Of course, if I can, I’d needed to utilize the time I’d sent my son to his nanny, when he was, away, to keep a steady schedule, to sleep early wake up early, and drink less, so I can, up my productivity.

What’s My Body Telling Me?

Then, it’s, the “Paces I talked at”, in recent years, I’d gotten invited to give lectures, and, although I’d gotten the acclaims after I’d made my speeches, but, each and every time I’d made a speech, I’d felt, so fatigued, and I’m thinking, that it has to do, with how fast I’d, talked. There are always some weird and wacky thoughts in my head, and, I’d, blurted out a lot of things I’d said without thinking twice on them, and, I’d often, strayed from the subjects, causing me to run over time in the seminars, and, I’d talked, faster, faster, and faster, felt very hurried, and I still couldn’t, fully give the lectures as I’d, prepared for them.

I was very curious, as to why most of the politicians talked so slowly, later on, I’d learned, that they were using, a technique of public speaking. They would, annunciate, word, for word, and looked into the audience, and adjusted their paces of speaking, and would pause at times, so the audience can look at their facial expressions. I’d decided, to slow down the pace of which I’d talked, to 80 percent of my original speed, I will, try to remind myself, to speak slower, to not hurry. It didn’t matter how much I’d, covered, but to correctly connect to what my audience was feeling, that’s more important, to lead them, into the stories I’m telling.

Finally, there’s, the pace I ate at, I’d often gotten reminded by my wife, to “chew your foods thoroughly”, but I was, so used to, just swallowing the foods too quickly, so I can, get to what needed to be done. With the coming of age, my protruding belly had, made me adjust my own way of consuming food, and I’d, started showing concerns for subjects on health. For instance, reduce the intake of starch, or, to drink a glass of fruit-based vinegar, to reduce the absorption of glucose.

The most clear change was when I’d gone to a hotpot with an older schoolmate who has gout, I’d found that he’d followed the “veggies before the meats” rule, he’d cooked all the veggies first, then, the meats, then, he didn’t, drink the soup after he’d, cooked the meats—did you notice, the fats that surfaced, from after you’d, broiled the meats? That was, the fat from the meats you’d, just cooked, not only was it an eyesore, even if, you’d, fished it out, the fats that were in the meats were, all cooked, into the soups, with the calorie count hiking up sky high. This won’t do! We must have hotpots in the winters! So, afterwards, my wife and I, followed my older schoolmate’s lead, then, we saw, how the meats in the hotpot shops aren’t that, fresh at all, and, we’d stopped, enjoying meat as much (so, this, is the real point behind all of that!).

Every time my health starts showing signs of decline, I’d taken a look at the paces to which I’d worked, and lived, to try to find the problem, then fix it. But, the conclusion almost always lands “You need to exercise more!”, like this low had, made me start running again, what’s magical is, I’d, run leisurely like I’d always done, but, I’d become, faster, and faster, it’d taken me six and a half minutes to run ten kilometers from before, and, I’d reduced the time down to five minute and a half, so, what, is my body telling me now, huh?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, perhaps, I should, put myself up, for a complete marathon then! Run slower, you’ll, go fasters!

So, this is from this man’s own experiences, because his health started flashing red, that was what made him become, more aware of the signals that his body was, sending to him, and, he’d, adjusted his diet, changed his ways of exercising, and, regained his health, and, he might even be, healthier than he had ever been, because he’d listened to the signals his body was, sending him, and made adjustments to his lifestyle.


The Gym, a Short Prose

The changes in the beliefs of this man from before, to after the marriage, it’s actually, quite funny, don’t you think? Translated…

He’s a fanatic when it came to exercise, he’d gone to the gyms after work. One day, he’d met her through a friend, and, the focus of his life became dating and the marriage, and clearly, the time he went to the gym got, reduced. But he’d still loved exercising, he thought this was only, a period of transition. He’d often thought, if she were willing, to go to the gym with her, it would be wonderful. But he thought he shouldn’t demand so much of her, because other than not loving exercising, she’d fitted to his ideal of a perfect woman.

But, after a few years of marriage, he’d told his friend, “the only good thing about her is that she wouldn’t, follow me to the gym.”

See how the mindset changes, from before to after the marriage? That, is how it always works, because when you were in love, you tend to, ignore ALL the not-so-good qualities about each other, but after you two get hitched, then, it’s, a different story, that, is when ALL the differences get magnified underneath that microscope of yours.

Healing Up from a Condition, a Poem


Each Day, a Brand New Start

The seasons of life, through the various stages of becoming older, translated…

I’d been a mother for many years, and, always fantasized, that one day, I’ll be, very good as a mother eventually, dealing with the assortments of situations that my children throw at me. And yet, things never work out as we planned, in my son’s teenage years, I’d often gotten mad, upset, and cried.

Turns out, that as my son who was originally very close to me, as he reached puberty, he’d had an altered personality, very unpredictable, his moods swung throughout the day, to the point that I’d become, too flustered, making me panic, as I face this strange child before me. I’d felt helpless, and he couldn’t do anything about it either, he’d told me, that he knew he wasn’t supposed to do the things, but, as the raging hormones came, he couldn’t control his mouth.

During that time, I’d stepped on eggshells daily, dealing with the tensions between my son and I, today was easy, but what about tomorrow? What’ll that be like? Every day became an unknown, a brand new beginning, that, roused up my own emotions.

After that period of turbulence in his teenage years, that little boy who’d asked for his mom constantly is now, gone, and, a young man standing on his own, stood before me. With my son’s growing older, leaving home for college, entering his own adulthood years, getting farther, and farther, and farther away from me. As you can see, I’m about to, adjust how we’re to, interact with one another again, to start a brand new phase soon.

I can’t help but be curious, the next time we meet, what sort of a curve ball will my son throw at me, to test my wisdoms as his mother? As the year starts anew, I hope, that in this brand new year, I’ll be, a wiser mother, knowing when you give him applause, when to let go, to respect that he’s, already, grown.

And so, this, is the adjustments in the mindset of this mother, as her son transitions from his teens, into adulthood years, and, this may be hard to cope with, because as your children grow older, you are entering into the empty nest stages of your lives, and, it’s just, a lot of adjustments, changes, to cope with.


The Breakup, a Short Prose

Guess W-H-O-S-E fault it is here??? Translated…

They were having supper.

She’d struck up a conversation casually with him, “You’d ruined my youthful years. Let’s break up!”

“It will do just fine,” he’d stated, peacefully, “Your vanity already, strained me completely.”

She’d not finished the food inside her bowl, and gotten up to pull out the metallic 29-inch suitcase out that’s waiting, for a brand new start in life, “Honestly, all your jeans, they’re all, outdated.”

He’d nodded, “This late in the game, there’s, NO need to hide anything from you anymore………I really HATE how you’d used those stainless steel chopsticks to eat.”

Without the goodbyes, the doors just, shut.

Later, the next man she’d met, was, better.

Later, he’d started using the stainless steel chopsticks to eat. The clinking of the sounds, like the BGM rhythms that’s received over millions of hits, echoed on, at the supper table for one.

And so, in this case, the woman WAS the problem of WHY the relationship failed, the first guy got exed out, because he didn’t eat with the stainless steel chopsticks (and that may be just the mask for whatever actually was wrong with the relationship), and the second time this woman thought she’d found love, it still didn’t work out, and this time, the man DID do things her way, and so, the problems rest with the woman here.