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deergoeshome · 2 years

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Autumn Reflections: Daydreamer

The winter solstice was yesterday, so I have spent the last couple of days reflecting upon the happenings of the last season & holy heck you guys what just happened?

I got the rona at the end of the summer & was convinced I was for real about to die. I'm pretty sure I got sick at the beginning of 2020 too, but it was nothing compared to these two weeks of misery. I hadn't been this sick since I contracted typhoid seven years prior, & I lost over five pounds in five days because I had no appetite. All this to say, if you haven't gotten sick, I do not recommend!!

What was worse than the physical symptoms was the toll it took on my mental health. Maybe it's because I had what seemed like endless hours of reflection time to get lost in thinking about all that has transpired in the last two & a half decades. Or perhaps it was because I am likely one of the most social introverts you'll meet, & the isolation in my room drove me insane. Basically, I was not okay. And what's scary is it feels like the lasting impact of this event affects me to this day.

A number of patients who experience really bad cases of this illness will report experiencing a brain fog for up to six months after contracting the virus. I was not hospitalized, but I would have considered it had the option been presented to me. I blame my bad habit of abstaining from the drinking of water for pretty much any symptom I ever experience, & that day I finally drove myself to the doctor, I can't recall having ever wanted anything more than to be in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm (lol).

After spending nearly two weeks in isolation either sleeping most hours of the day or wishing I could fall back asleep during the hours I was awake & miserable, I felt like I was returning from the land of the dead. It was a really scary experience realizing I didn't want to be awake the times I was awake.

During this time, I realized I do this thing where I will daydream a lot to cope with uncomfortable things. I will plan crazy trips, come up with fun business ideas, or dream up some romantic future relationship for myself when I need to distract myself from the unpleasant realities of the present, even if it is something as minor as waking up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep. There are nights when I will dedicate like three hours to planning a tour of South America just because I can't sleep. Like I have maps in the drawer of my nightstand that I will pull out to visualize all the places I'll go, & I'll have dates & flights planned out & everything. I will admit that some of my best ideas come from this type of daydreaming, but of course most of it stays hypothetical.

I also did this when I attended university, & it was for much longer periods of time than just a night of restless slumber.

I had some pretty lofty goals as an undergraduate student that, at one point or another, involved medical school, joining the navy, starting some businesses, teaching with Americorps/Teach for America, & international missions (medical or community development). I now realize that daydreaming about my career became my way of coping with the stress I experienced from the rigorous course load, family issues, & a pretty unhealthy relationship in which I found myself.

What's really sad to me is the fact that I can't really tell you what happened my last two years of college (when I was dating my ex). I can't recall many details from conversations I had, what I did over breaks or on trips, or what I would do for fun. Given, I was kind of really depressed for most of this time, so I'm pretty sure I spent the little "free time" that I had either in therapy, working out, or distracting myself by hanging out with my boyfriend, dreaming about our future together. And I spent so much of my energy focusing on this career path for myself because dreaming about being a doctor is what got me through several hellish semesters of hard classes, waning friendships, & an unhealthy codependent romantic relationship. So I notice when I reminisce about college, it's mostly memories of freshman & sophomore years. It's like my brain blocked the rest of it out.

And that's when I realized what a time warp you find yourself in when your thoughts are so directed at dreaming up something that isn't rooted in reality, that you lose touch with what is actually going on around you. How long have I been doing this subconsciously? How much of my life had I blocked out because I was daydreaming about something else to cope with hard things?

It wasn't working this time. All I wanted to do was fall back asleep because no amount of daydreaming about a future trip, career, or person was bringing me any comfort. What a defeating feeling it is to realize that the thing in which you have conditioned yourself to place your hope is not real. The things I daydream about have not happened & will likely never happen. How much of my life had I spent living like this? What do I actually have to show for the last two & a half decades of this life?

I called my best friend because I felt insane, & she's good at being the voice of reason in my life. I told her how depressed I was feeling. I tried to explain this confusion I was experiencing about feeling like this life I am living isn't real. She suggested after my last day of isolating, I drive to town to hang out. I need to be around people.

It was the weirdest experience returning to society. I felt like I was constantly having an out of body experience mixed with a recurring case of deja vu. I was also really depressed so I had very low motivation to do anything & a very difficult time making decisions. And then I noticed I couldn't remember things. I would be driving up some streets that I used to pass every day, & I couldn't remember how to get somewhere. Or I would be trying to remember what exit was coming up on the highway, read the name of the street on the sign hanging on the overpass, & forget what I just read 30 seconds later.

I was really scared to return to work. I pulled my boss aside, looked him in the eye, & told him, "Hey, not to sound dramatic or anything, but there is something wrong with my brain."

Without going into all the details of the autumn season, basically I felt like my worst fears were all coming true. I couldn't remember things. I was hyper emotional & spent several minutes to several hours of every day crying as I struggled with the anxiety & depression. I was letting people down which meant I was a bad leader & friend. I needed help but wasn't getting what I felt like I needed. I would force myself to get up every morning & show up for a long day of work, convincing myself if I could just make it to my afternoon break or the evening, it would be okay. When those breaks came, I would walk back to my house to cry or sleep, but I would be overwhelmed with thoughts of self harm & hopelessness. This was a regular occurrence for a period of one & a half months.

In October, I took a vacation, & it was the first time I felt like myself in months. I road tripped through Colorado down to New Mexico during one of the most iconic times of the year here in the Rocky Mountains. All the aspens were changing to gold, & it had been on my bucket list for several years to see the aspens change at the famous Maroon Bells as well as to attend Albuquerque's International Balloon Fiesta. I had no idea when I planned these activities several months prior that I would be a complete emotional wreck that fall.

I worked one last miserable day at work, got in my car, & spent the night at my best friend's apartment in Denver before leaving early the next morning to head west before turning south to go through the mountains.

I didn't cry nearly as much as I thought I would that first day of driving. During those horrible weeks, I would frequently look forward to being in my car by myself for two hours at a time because that meant I had two hours of uninterrupted cry time (or karaoke time if I got tired of being sad). I lived for those drives to Denver to see my therapist.

But that day, I drove four hours to Aspen-Snowmass area & could barely shed a couple tears. I thought long & hard about what I've made of this life over the last two & a half decades. I thought about college in Oklahoma & my post-college life in Colorado. I thought about high school in California. I thought about all the places I'd been in the last decade as well as all the people I've met & all that I've experienced. I decided to make a mental list of what has happened the last ten years.

I felt thankful that among that list, I had spent over a year collectively abroad on six different continents. I felt blessed for having met my best friends during this time. I felt proud to have learned a new language. I felt exhausted but grateful at the thought of being in school for most of that time & that I was able to walk for two different graduations in the same decade. I felt happy for having discovered favorite books & book series.

And then I got out of the car & hiked around the lake, among the trees, & to the base of those beautiful peaks. I got out my lunch & sat for a long time. It was the first time in a long time that I felt thankful to be me, right there in that spot at that point in time experiencing those senses that allowed me to appreciate being in one of the most spectacular places on earth.

It drizzled on my way back to my car. I stopped at a stream to watch the rainbow trout rise to the surface for bugs for a good half hour or so. Then I drove another four hours to Crested Butte, the wildflower capital of Colorado. I had missed my window of opportunity to visit earlier in the summer when the entire area is teaming with dozens of varieties of wildflowers, but I decided to go late anyway. I took Kebler Pass, a long dirt road with beautiful vistas displaying the changing aspens. It rained almost the entire time. Initially, I was tempted to feel sad, as I had grown very accustomed to feeling, but I couldn't help but feel happy with all the yellow outside my windows.

I spent almost the entire next day in the car driving through various mountain towns with names that sounded vaguely familiar to me after having lived in Colorado for several years. I went through Gunnison, where I had visited previously in the middle of the summer the last time I was distraught & my boss sent me away to regain my composure & sanity. I went out of my way to check out Telluride because I heard there was a free gondola ride that takes you up to see some spectacular views of the trees. I stopped in a thrift store & bought a pocket knife.

Then I proceeded to drive through Ouray, Silverton, & Durango down the "Million Dollar Highway." I can't imagine that I didn't cry while doing this. It was so beautiful, & I was so happy.

This last picture is me & a bagel when I stopped to read about the Dillon Pinnacles near Blue Mesa Reservoir.

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deergoeshome · 3 years

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You Are Here: A Month Long Road Trip Across The Southern US

I went on a road trip two months ago as I was inspired after reading Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley: In Search of America. I had little interest in a cross-country road trip initially as my plan was to go somewhere tropical and surf this winter, but my options were limited due to the pandemic. So I decided to travel around the southern part of the United States, starting in California, working my way over to South Carolina, and visiting friends along the way before I turned around and headed back to Colorado. Ironically, out of Steinbeck’s 10,000 mile trek and my 7,000 mile journey across the US, I believe our paths crossed only once in Amarillo, Texas.

When I say I was inspired by Steinbeck’s story, I mean that it was for similar reasons that I decided to set out on a long trip to learn about my home and country. After an established career as a writer, Steinbeck comes under the conviction that the America about which he writes is the America of twenty years prior. Current events are all filtered through the lens of the media, and the author feels like he is out of touch with the real and current America.

I’ve lived in a bubble for the last two years, a bubble that was made even more apparent by the impact (or lack thereof) that the happenings of 2020 had on me personally.

I continued to go to work. I get to see my friends everyday. I almost never need to wear a mask throughout the work day. In comparison with the majority of American society, my life has changed very little even with a pandemic, a polarizing election, protests and riots, and the largest wildfires in Colorado history this past year right outside my little bubble.

And even now, as an Asian American living in a time where the hashtag #stopasianhate has become a trend necessary to remind society to remain decent human beings and not be complete assholes to each other, my life continues on unaffected by something that many of my peers cannot escape. I don’t go about my day with the fear that I will be targeted and attacked or slandered. Really, the only reason I am even aware of the state of our current society is because I catch a glimpse every now and then on social media, with which I can engage or disengage to the degree that I choose.

So yes, I am ashamed to say that I often times feel out of touch with reality. I am also so incredibly thankful to say that. My ignorance allows me to experience both bliss and guilt. I felt that I needed some way to engage with my society without getting caught up in the emotionalism of the times.

I like this picture that was taken at Cadillac Ranch, one of the only attractions in Amarillo, Texas. It makes me think of a song from the musical Come From Away that is about the experiences of a bunch of strangers during 9/11. I was only six years old when it happened, so I only vaguely remember society feeling like it was the end of the world. I can remember cultural changes taking place that created a filter for the way I see others, particularly foreigners of a different faith, during some formative years. I remember the halt on international and domestic travel as well as the lasting effects that it had on travel in general ever since. Feels kind of like deja vu in that the current, stressful times seem to impact me minimally in the way that a six year old can’t fully comprehend the implications of a major terrorist attack.

You are here, wherever you are. Right now, at this point in history, I am here. For the past two years, I’ve been here. Middle of nowhere, Colorado, living my best life while almost everyone I know is there in the real world. And for a couple weeks this past winter, I am thankful that I was able to travel to there.

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deergoeshome · 3 years

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Cry Baby

Now I’m not here to tell anybody how to live or anything, and I’m not sure if these are even words that I will say that I live by in like 10 years, but if 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that it is OK to cry. In fact, I have a theory that it’s actually good to cry. Often too. It’s a sign that you’re still human with emotions and stuff, not just a robot or a zombie.

There were many days this year that I felt like a robot zombie. After working all day, I would realize that I didn’t eat or drink water or have any real conversations with people all day (ironic because I work in a kitchen and am around people all day long!). And I would almost always immediately break down, but I couldn’t really understand why. Was I just feeling sorry for myself? Were my expectations of my role not being met and I was dissatisfied? Was I comparing my experience to someone else’s and coveting an “easier” role?

There were also innumerable instances where the stream of tears flowed from a place that I could only describe as the human experience. Twenty-twenty, complete with disease, death, fear and anxiety, overtime hours, furloughs, riots, destruction from wildfires, and everything in between, brought us to our knees. If you weren’t personally grieving loss, you were witnessing the grief of an entire community, our society.

For me, there was a weird sense of guilt I experienced too. I quarantined at a luxury guest ranch in the mountains with a bunch of my best friends. We spent our days getting around to projects that had been neglected, hosting competitions, playing sports, celebrating birthdays, and hiking or riding horses. I had a fulfilling job this whole time too. It was like I was having the time of my life while a bomb was going off in the outside or “real” world.

Thankfully, before I knew any of this was coming, I had kind of braced myself for an emotionally traumatizing year with personal family stuff, and I decided to begin counseling again. Our sessions kind of tapered off as the time came for us to reopen for the summer, but boy, am I thankful for the emotional bootcamp to which I subjected myself for 3 months.

All this to say, 2020 was really full of emotions, not in the sense of good and bad ones, but more along the lines of fun and not fun, pleasant and painful, helpful and inconvenient, life-giving and frustrating, and both necessary and (seemingly) unnecessary. There were a lot of them--constantly and all changing frequently. Crying didn’t make experiencing the spectrum of emotions that was always in flux easier, per se, but it does signal to me that I am feeling something and that that--being a human instead of a robot zombie--is a good thing.

***

I made a friend in Morocco at the beginning of the year. He had just spent 10 days at a silent meditation retreat and believe me, this guy was zen as hell. Like so joyful & grateful for everything in life. He was so much fun to be around!

I had a rough and unpleasant experience with a family member while traveling and found myself wandering around a botanic garden crying because I didn’t know how to make the situation better. I was frustrated and angry with my family member and myself for it. As my zen friend was checking in on me over IG messaging, this is how our conversation went:

Me: Sometimes I cry because I’m feeling very much like myself & cry about a lot of things, happy & sad. And other times, like this week, I cry because I don’t feel like myself and I feel really frustrated. Lots of negative emotions & not feeling grateful or excited about people or nature or everything.

Zen friend: But that's normal. Life is like that, changing all the time. Observe the emotions, and try not to get caught in them.

Me: What do you do with them once you observe they are there?

Zen friend: Nothing. Interesting thing about it is that if you don't feed them, they pass away.

Me: Lol I hate that. I like the idea of being able to do something about the emotions. Like flicking them away.

Zen friend: So the best way to do this is to notice when the image/emotion comes up, and stop the engagement of the mind in it. That is a bit more difficult to do then it sounds.

Me: Okie dokie. I’ll see what I can do. Or not do?

It’s tiring--crying, that is. I’ll cry and observe the emotions and then cry some more. But it’s normal--the emotions, that is. And crying should be too, don’t you think?

***

I have two favorite spots for crying, both at the ranch. Actually, three including anywhere by the ocean. But since my two favorite spots were not accessible today, I walked over to a freeway overpass and watched cars zoom by. I’ve been suicidal before, but today wasn’t one of those days. I just felt sad for some dysfunctional relationships and also for the fact that I couldn’t cry in my favorite spot.

And then I felt guilty. The poor people who would walk over this bridge and be like What’s wrong with that girl? as they passed me, scooting to the farthest side of the pathway. And most of them will also think to themselves Should I ask her what’s wrong? Clearly she’s upset and crying about something. No, I should keep a distance of 6 feet. We are in the middle of a pandemic so she probably doesn’t want a stranger to talk to her anyway.

And that got me thinking. Why is crying taboo? Why is it bad to feel the not fun emotions and express it, even if you are in public? Because it sure as hell is not real life to have everything together all the time. And it is the farthest thing from reality for anyone to be expected to do that in 2020.

A kind individual did stop to talk to me. He asked what was wrong. 2020? I told him no, 2020 has been pretty good for me, actually. But upon further examination, maybe yes. Maybe the sheer amount of emotions of 2020 did cause me to cry. But also maybe not in that particular instance. Maybe it’s because sometimes it would just be easier to be a robot zombie rather than a human.

Life would be easier without tears or emotions or relationships or the stress of a society that seems to be falling apart, would it not? It’s not a bad thing to be crying over these difficult things. It’s a way to cope instead of remaining in a state of denial. It’s observing that the realties and the emotions are there and that they are just as tangible as the courage and bravery you have chosen each morning that you’ve gotten up to face these things head on.

Wherever you’re at and however you are feeling as 2020 comes to an end, I wish you the fullest of human experiences, complete with emotions, courage, and tears amidst the difficulties. I hope that this next year will be full of tears, whether from joy or pain, and that in this experience, we can all learn to show a little more compassion to other humans when we see them crying on freeway overpasses and beyond.

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deergoeshome · 4 years

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Welcome to November

I came home from camp in seventh grade & learned that my parents had gotten in a fight. They didn’t speak for two months. My brother & I managed to convince them to sit down with us for a meal on Christmas Day at some Vietnamese restaurant. This event was the catalyst for some set backs in formative years. I spent the next two years of junior high trying to figure out how to—or really whether or not I wanted to—live with my depression. Things got better. They also got worse & then better again. It’s how it goes.

I subconsciously dread the end of the year. It always comes as a surprise to me the week after Halloween. I’ll notice I’m not in the best mood & realize it’s happening. The end of the year again. And I really hate endings of seasons, chapters, etcetera in life. I have a tendency to procrastinate, so I always associate the end of a semester or year with a high level of stress. Also change with a new year, of course. Some people, like me, actually like change more than others, but it’s still hard. I’m also really sentimental & get nostalgic a lot. Endings make me wish life had options to pause & rewind.

So all this to say this sort of seasonal depression never ceases to surprise me year after year. Before I can even really process that the holidays are coming up, my heart warns me. And in my sadness, I feel thankful for the warning. Thanks for the heads up that it is that time of year again for me to take inventory of the things in life that aren’t perfect in perspective with the things that are good. It’s a reality check that is much needed.

My family dynamics are still complicated & it causes me a fair amount of stress. But at least Colorado is a good place for me because we get an unfair amount of sunny days compared to many other places in this country. I’m around good people. I care about my family members & they care about me. I can look forward to a two month break from work. Things are going to be okay. It’s how it goes.

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deergoeshome · 4 years

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Nice to Meet Me

There have been a number of times in the last weeks that I’ve begun writing about things I find interesting about myself, but I’ve repeatedly given up as a result of feeling narcissistic & silly. To clarify, by things I find interesting about myself I am referring to a number of topics that I have thought would be interesting blog posts ranging from race & gender to random hobbies I would recommend to others. (Hopefully I’m not so self absorbed & conceited to think of myself as more interesting or important than others.) However, what begins as a periodic re-introduction of myself to those who follow my social media account tends to end in jumble of words that feels inauthentic or an otherwise inaccurate representation of who I am. After all, I don’t believe social media is the most conducive to meaningful & real relational interactions. How are you supposed to get to know who I am when I hold the power to reveal or hide the pieces that I want or don’t want you to see? Nevertheless, I’ve found this failed exercise really entertaining & fun. It’s like when you make a new friend & discover the cool & weird things that make them interesting. I’ve been cataloging those items about my own personality including my likes & dislikes, values, compatibility with others, strengths and weaknesses, & so on. It’s interesting, to say the least. Something that fascinates me is the words and emojis people choose to include under their “about me” section of their social media accounts. Things like age, school, graduating year, profession, zodiac sign, personality type, pronouns, a meaningful quote, a witty pun, etc. My Facebook about me has been the same Nacho Libre quote for the past decade. My Instagram page reads a single word in another language, aficionado. My blog subtitle explains where I got the username I use for literally everything. I think about changing something from time to time, but then I decide against it because who the heck even cares? That’s something I can appreciate about social media. I’ll catch myself wondering why I do what I do a lot. Why am I still scrolling after 3 hours? Why do I care so much about who is viewing or liking my post? Why do I spend so much time thinking about how I want to portray myself to others looking at my life through a screen? So while I kind of hate social media (because, if I’m honest, I’m addicted to it), it’s been fun meeting myself in this context. I’ve learned more about myself through the lens of me looking at you guys looking at my profile than I think I realize. It has caused me to be introspective & evaluate what things I do or do not care about. It has allowed me to get to know myself better & find ways to be a more intentional, kinder human. It has helped me let go of some silly expectations to which I do not need to hold. It has made me appreciate the things I appreciate even more fully—flowers, travel, the sea, friendship, history, colors, doing laundry, agriculture, cute dogs, sustainability, etc. Also real life. Social media makes me thankful that it isn’t real life but there is such thing as a real life to be living in which all of these things I love aren’t only captured in a picture or story but are experienced in real time with other people. And my real life, not my curated one online, is what I find interesting.

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deergoeshome · 4 years

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Hey TKA 👋

I read the letter that has been circulating & accumulating signatures & have some thoughts for alumni, Christians, current students, & faculty/administration that hopefully are helpful in navigating these times for our community.

First, it’s very honorable that alumni who care about this institution & its students would work together to draft this letter. It’s also pretty awesome that a ton of other alumni would take the time to read through the thing in its entirety & sign. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person thankful to have graduated from TKA from the way people rag on the school, so it’s honestly really cool to see that people care.

I do want to point out that very rarely has change come from a bunch of petition signatures. People fight for change. People collaborate with others for change. People vote for change. People educate others for change. People put dollars toward change. In extreme cases, people die for change. Change always comes at a cost.

So I ask you, alumni, how invested are you in this cause & community? Because it doesn’t cost you very much to put your name at the end of a letter. But it does cost a lot for a small private school situated in the most expensive part of the country that is already extremely limited on resources to hire more specialized faculty, implement new processes, & restructure entire programs.

And I get it. It’s a catch-22 when you are a non-donating alumni that doesn’t donate because you don’t believe in how things are currently run but would maybe consider donating if things were run differently but things can’t be run differently (at least not to the degree that you might want them to be different) because who’s going to pay for it in the mean time while you don’t agree with supporting the way things are currently run??

All I’m saying is that good ideas are great, but until there are some tangible resources to make those a reality (hint: $$$ or time), they tend to stay good ideas.

I would also like to bring to the attention of any student, alumni, faculty, or community member that identifies as a Christian that any time guilt & shame enter the picture, that is far from the message of the Gospel.

While I do not suspect that this letter has the intent of shaming the institution or any individuals, I do ask you Christians to consider how #exposetka is perhaps promoting a culture of shaming under the guise of “holding the school accountable.”

I think it’s a step in the right direction to remove names from future submissions on the Instagram page, but the reality is that damage has already been & I’m afraid will continue to be done in the hearts of faculty, alumni, & students alike.

While I do not wish to detract from the painful experiences of those who have submitted, I don’t believe that circulating words of anger or bitterness is the most conducive thing for creating a healthier environment. I’m also not saying that it is wrong to provide a platform for people to voice their experiences & bring to light things that may have been hidden for years, but I feel very strongly that unless the goal is to promote forgiveness, healing, & reconciliation, we are completely missing it as a Christian community. And what I can say is that as I read through the entries, I can’t help but feel that this has become a platform for voices that wish to shame & express anger toward individuals and the school with no intent of furthering the message of the Gospel. Not sure what the answer is! Just something to think about as Christians!

This leads me to some encouragement I have for current junior high & high school students trying to navigate their way through all this weird stuff in social media & our current culture.

First, I would encourage you to try to see the best in others. People are very flawed, but that doesn’t mean everyone is trying to hurt you. People are jerks, but that doesn’t mean you will never find people who will bring out the best in you. You wouldn’t believe the difference you will experience in your friendships & relationships if you do your best to believe that most people are doing their best to be decent people.

So what does this look like when a teacher does something that hurts & offends you? It’s taking into perspective that your teachers choose to work at TKA for a not very good salary while living in the Bay Area and are under the constant scrutiny of both students & parents because they genuinely care about you. And yet they are flawed human beings who make mistakes. They aren’t perfect. They, too, struggle as sinful human beings. They go through hard times financially. They lose family members. They go through divorces. They might not even be the best teachers you will ever have. But they do their best to honor the call that they believe God has given them which is to educate & serve you.

And when you are wronged by a teacher, I encourage you to explore healthy ways to process, communicate, & influence change. Unfortunately, there isn’t really a set formula for this, but I recommend first bringing it before God in prayer, seeking the counsel of someone in authority that you trust (mom/dad/pastor/another teacher/etc.), & then finding ways to overcome the temptation to remain a victim of the circumstance, whether that is confronting the person or reporting your experience to a higher authority. Gossiping is very rarely effective in actually bringing change or helping you be a healthier person.

And the thing is, junior high & high school are hard. Everyone is trying to figure out who they are & what they value, & a lot of times people are complete dicks to each other. That doesn’t even stop after you graduate. You’re also under the authority of those imperfect teachers who are just trying not to screw up even when they are presented with the opportunity hundreds of times each day with every single student.

But just like you can’t let certain individuals or negative experiences define who you are, you need to fight the temptation to let those instances define your view of your overall experience. Otherwise, your life will be miserable not only while you’re in school but beyond.

Last, I just want the faculty & administration to know that while you have a lot of people against you or your decisions as a result of all this, you also have a lot of people praying that God will impart the wisdom you need to lead during these times. If you ask me, 2020 just has a lot of people wanting to bitch about something/everything, so I pray that the Lord would bring comfort and peace to all who have been the subject of hurtful accusations & that he guides you in processing what changes are needed in the TKA community as well as in your personal lives.

Questions? Thoughts? I may or may not respond to emails as I live in the freaking middle of a national forest with limited WiFi (also I just may not care to respond), but feel free to shoot me one anyway! [email protected]

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deergoeshome · 4 years

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Traveling Alone With Your Thoughts

The ranch shuts down for the winter, so I’ve managed to get out of the kitchen and have been bouncing around for two months, spending way too much time thinking about my life. It’s been good to have time to think—real enlightening and stuff but also rarely fun. Without a doubt, traveling can be fun. I have a great time seeing different places with new and old friends. I like doing this by myself too. And I really enjoy trying and learning new things. You probably already knew these things about me from looking at my curated Instagram posts and stories. But does anyone who has ever had a grand ol time traveling the world by themselves tell you about how tired you’ll get of hearing your own voice in your head? If not, I volunteer to be the first. It’s mentally exhausting thinking about yourself all the time. Like not even in a selfish or self-absorbed way, just survival stuff. What do I want to eat? Where do I want to go today? How do I get back to the hotel? But then also the deep stuff. How much more would I have enjoyed that if I had someone to experience it with me? Why did that make me feel afraid or annoyed or uncomfortable? How do I want other people to perceive me? What the heck am I doing with my life? Of course, it doesn’t take traveling the world to run into these questions (with the exception of the hotel one unless you, in fact, live in a hotel and get lost easily in the city in which you reside I suppose). And maybe you don’t consciously ask yourself the deep ones. That’s okay. I don’t always think about these things in everyday life, but I’ve noticed that these questions plague me when I am alone taking in the culture and stories of an unfamiliar place. And as a million thoughts and questions float around my brain from receiving and processing all the new stimuli, I imagine thousands of tiny gears cranking. I feel excited as something momentous is about to happen. I anticipate I am on the verge of new discoveries about myself and life. At the same time, I am terrified of the gain in momentum. What if I don’t find the answers but can’t get the gears to stop turning? What if I uncover some previously unnoticed flaw in my character or desires or worldview but reach no resolution? Sometimes I feel like a crazy person for thinking so much, and other times I feel like a normal person for thinking as much as I do, and still other times I realize these are one in the same, and somehow I am and am not. And then I’m like woah I didn’t expect for things to get so intense in my head when I first booked that plane ticket! And that, my friends, is what traveling alone is like for me most of the time. For the record, I do recommend you try out some solo travel if you haven’t had the chance to do so and maybe even more so if you find you don’t feel quite comfortable being alone and doing things by yourself. Just don’t expect it to be only what you perceive traveling to be based on the pictures and videos of some traveling Instagram influencer or me for that matter.

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deergoeshome · 5 years

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Being Good At Things

Generally speaking, I’m pretty good at being pretty good at things. There are also plenty of things at which I’m not so good, but I feel quite secure in the fact that my aptitude in most things outweighs my ineptitude in few things.

Consequently, I have become accustomed to impressing those around me. This is especially true of people who place little to no expectations on me, usually when we first meet. My acquisition of responsibilities with past jobs, leadership roles, and academic endeavors can speak to this. I like coming into something new with no one knowing who I am and then blowing the people out of the water because of how awesome I am at doing things while also being a pretty decent human being. And as a result, people usually like how I do what I do and who I am, but I recently came to the sobering realization of how unfortunate this is.

Maybe you are reading this and thinking that I sound really arrogant. I’m not trying to be--honest. I do, however, try to be honest with myself when I reflect on the significant and insignificant moments in my life that have shaped my perception of self and outlook on life.

So why does being good at stuff kind of sucks sometimes?

First, let me tell you a little bit about my current life situation.

I am the sous chef at a luxury guest ranch here in Colorado. Before this, I was working at a medical office where I was well-liked by many patients, the staff, and the organization and management. Everyone’s perception of me was exactly what I would have liked it to be: a competent worker and down-to-earth person. Then I gave that up to go somewhere new to wash dishes and cook food.

At first, I was assigned staff meals because new people can’t be trusted with serving food to our guests right away. But then I made good food and was given more responsibility in our kitchen. As our busiest season approached, I was asked if I would be willing to be second in charge. With only one season under my belt, I accepted the challenge anyway. I knew it was a relief to our head chef and CEO to have me onboard, so I was determined to work hard and continue to impress people.

Then the summer season came and I went almost two 60 hour weeks without a break to be by my introverted self. I was frustrated, irritable, and exhausted. I powered through. I kept working to improve upon my mistakes and shortcomings. It has now been 11 weeks, and although I do get breaks now, I still don’t feel like a pro at my job. It’s disheartening.

I know the reality is that I can’t be great at everything all the time, and the truth is that I am in fact good at my job. People around me tell me. I mean, I am responsible for feeding about 70 guests every day and it gets done. But I also know that I have not felt like my best self these past weeks. I get frustrated often. I break down from time to time. I have not been very good at being the easy-going person that I like being. I feel the weight of the responsibilities and expectations placed on me, and I admit that I don’t like it.

I don’t like it when I can’t finish everything I need to do to get a meal out on time by myself. I don’t like people coming to me with questions for everything. I don’t like that when the head chef isn’t here, I am the person to blame if we run out of food or something isn’t prepared correctly or a guest has an allergic reaction. There are a number of other things to dislike, and I feel that I am starting to dislike the person that this environment has produced--irritable, impatient, and insecure, just to name a few.

I’ve told myself a number of times that I don’t have to be here. I could go work on a farm or travel for some time. The easy thing for me to do would be to escape, to find somewhere new where there are no expectations and I can once again feel like I rock at life when I prove myself to be impressive to someone new. It’s addicting, convincing yourself that you can continuously be competent at new things, but it’s not sustainable.

So I accept that life does not work this way. I can’t live in a way that avoids amounting responsibility and go from experience to experience telling myself that I do a great job. It’s like being able to say a few phrases in five different languages but not actually mastering any of them. You can only impress people for so long before they find you out. Being good at many things doesn’t always mean you’re actually good at those things until time allows for the testing of your acquisition and stewardship of responsibility.

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deergoeshome · 5 years

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Gastromotiva

This past week while visiting Rio de Janeiro with a friend, I had the opportunity to volunteer at Refettorio Gastromotiva, an organization committed to fighting food waste and social exclusion (affiliated with Food for Soul and Chef Massimo Bottura with whom I am literally obsessed). We had originally planned to volunteer each night we were there, and although we ended up only going once, the experience was well worth us booking our hotel for the entire week in a pretty sketchy part of town.

The Lapa neighborhood is full of beautiful artwork but isn’t the safest bairro in Rio. Thankfully, our hotel was only about a five minute walk away.

My Portuguese is conversational at this point, but I was pretty nervous about acting as translator for my friend who doesn’t speak a lick of the language. It can’t be that difficult serving food to a couple dozen people, but what if I miss or mess up instructions?

Just a brisk walk from our hotel, we were among the first to arrive at 17:02. I didn’t want to be late, but we got caught up in trying to print our tickets for a football game that night. Thankfully, Brazilians are very chill and rarely on time for things (my people!).

We entered through some warehouse doors and looked around at an open space with high ceilings and full of long wooden dining tables on one end and a kitchen on the other, resembling a modern cafe or bakery. Some half dozen Brazilians who looked like they had been working in preparation for the meal that night watched as the two confused japonesas (everyone assumes you’re Japanese in Brazil if you’re Asian) entered. Someone asked or perhaps stated something inaudibly in Portuguese to which I replied, “Somos voluntários?”

We were then directed past the kitchen to the back area with cushions lining some large steps for seating. We chatted with someone sitting next to us who said she was from Rio, a true Carioca, and had volunteered before. She also happened to know English which meant my friend could participate in the conversation.

Gastromotiva staff member, Winnee, who oversees all of the volunteers. How cute is she and her name??

Volunteers trickled in, we met the staff member with whom I had been corresponding and is in charge of volunteers, and I did my best to translate the introductory presentation based on what I already knew about the organization.

After washing our hands, the instructions came to set the tables and how the dishes would be served that night. We were also introduced to the guest chef, Juarez Campos from the neighboring state of Espírito Santos, who explained that the meal would consist of three courses.

The first would be a polenta dish accompanied by a tomato-based meat sauce, reflecting a typical dish you would find while traveling inland of the region and demonstrating the influence of the Italian immigrants on Brazilian cuisine. The second would be moqueca, a fish stew popular in the coastal areas of several states (I’ve tried it from four states now and love it). And last, our sobremesa would be a banana ice cream with stewed pineapple.

Our guest chef for the evening was Chef Juarez Campos from Espírito Santos.

As the organization is focused on reducing food waste, the meal each night is prepared with donated ingredients. A guest chef with a famous restaurant somewhere is invited to create and prepare a restaurant-style meal for 90 guests from marginalized groups, many of whom are from the local homeless population.

While setting the tables before the guests arrived, the volunteers took this opportunity to chat amongst one another about their various walks of life. I met a young man while setting out cups and learned that he just started his courses in gastronomy in university (so much cooler than me, am I right?).

Everything took place very quickly from here. Despite the absence of delegation of tasks, things were actually really organized somehow. Amidst the frenzy of volunteers filling cups of water and making sure everything was in place, guests began making their way in and filling the seats. After a short introduction, it was time to serve the food.

The friend that I dragged along with me had befriended a girl from England that had lived in São Paulo, so we asked her and the Carioca we had met earlier to stand infront of us in line to make sure we were following instructions correctly.

It was pretty straightforward: grab two plates, serve from the right side of the room first, and get back in line until everyone is served. Once the guests were done, we clear their plates but ask that they keep their utensils. No seconds, but we can refill water as much as they needed. Three courses later, it was already time to say goodbye.

“I might not be a great chef, but I’m a big chef.” You are both, indeed.

Having worked with various soup kitchens, food banks, and homeless outreaches, I had anticipated that the short hour we had with our 90 guests could have very easily been pretty chaotic. It was busy but did not at all resemble chaos. The room was filled with chatter, laughter, the aroma of delicious food. Just joy and gratitude from both the guests and volunteers.

While refilling the glasses of some guests sitting together at a particular table, I learned that some of them spoke English as they were from the US or Canada but moved to Brazil a number of years ago. It surprised them (and just about everyone) to meet me, who they assumed was probably from Asia, and hear me introduce myself in Portuguese stating that I am an American. I was also asked about how I liked Brazil, how I learned Portuguese, and if I have any dreams for the future. Some nice conversations.

Once the room had cleared, we set the table for our dinner together as volunteers. Some people shared about what they learned from the experience. The young man I had met summarized it for all of us in just one word: gratitude. To be able to partake in this organization’s mission and serve the community, eat delicious food, and share this experience together left us all grateful for that night.

Just finished dessert and about to say our goodbyes. Only spent 3 hours with this amazing group but we were SO sad to leave.

Also, by the end of the night, we realized over half of the volunteers spoke English (eye roll).

#travel

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deergoeshome · 5 years

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On Living Unapologetically & Not Taking Things Personally

More than once I’ve heard people describe me as chill. So chill, you might think I’m high (I really had someone say that). Yeah, I’m chill. Not high. I go with the flow and am often spontaneous. I’d like to think that I am open-minded and accepting of others. I’m an idealist, somewhere between optimist and realist. I like seeing the best in people and also recognize that humans are complete idiots that destroy literally everything--the environment, their health, other peoples’ feelings, etc. So in general when it comes to dealing with people, I don’t take things personally.

If you’re reading my blog, you probably already knew these things about me. I think that these qualities make me an interesting person, but it doesn’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. I don’t care. What does bother me is that while I’m going about living my life feeling like not a care in the world can throw off my vibe, every now and then I will all of a sudden realize that I do care. A lot. About literally everything and everyone. How inconvenient.

It takes a lot to get me flustered or fired up. Most of the time I can just have the “whatever, dude 🤙” attitude. But I have learned that when my motives, intentions, or character come into question, especially by people that I feel should really know these things about me, you bet I take it personally. And I hate it. I feel a deep drive to constantly attend to the wellbeing and happiness of those I care about (which sometimes can be pretty much everyone) and I alternate between this and throwing my middle finger up to the world because I don’t want to care anymore. It hurts to care. It’s time consuming, confusing, and frustrating when people misinterpret your actions.

But I’ve learned to embrace this about myself, the two extremes of not caring at all and caring too much. In the end, I think it all boils down to this: I love people and I love life. I also love that the two aren’t mutually exclusive, although sometimes it feels like it. I’ve cared so much about people that seeing them experience pain has disfigured my outlook on life. On the other hand, in pursuing my own passions and life goals I’ve hurt a number of people and questioned whether or not my love for them was sincere.

But I do love, and I can’t stop. I just can’t please or save everyone, nor can I make them understand. And at some point, after doing everything in my power to do the right thing and give a reasonable explanation to others (which I am becoming less fond of altogether), I just had to decide that sometimes not even an apology will suffice.

There will always be people who, for whatever reason, will be offended by and/or criticize your actions. When faced with the consequences of your decisions, “why?” and “what if?” will always be in the back of your mind. And the temptation to take these things to heart, to take them personally, will always be right around the corner. Sometimes and for some people these are things that need to be considered. However, I’ve noticed that more often times than not, I do not owe anyone an explanation, nor would it help to try to conjure up one.

But if I had to come up with an explanation, it would be this: I live by my convictions, I make my decisions (usually after I’ve sought counsel by trustworthy individuals), and I do these things while trying to not be an asshole to the people around me. And this is enough. There really is nothing else to explain, except that I am a human being, another one of those idiots that destroys things even when I don’t intend to. It’s the law of entropy. I can’t help it.

And I think if people would remember that every person falls into the category of these flawed human beings, maybe we would be more gracious toward each other and ourselves. Maybe we could more easily overlook the wrongs done to us, free ourselves from the responsibility of other peoples’ happiness, and chill out!

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deergoeshome · 6 years

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Happy Anniversary

And just like that, three hundred and sixty-five days have passed since I moved to a completely new state. I remember listening to a pop punk playlist when I set out from the west coast and “Leaving California” by Boys Like Girls came on and feeling like my life was a music video (lol).

This time last year I was so nervous. For months I struggled with very, very negative thoughts, despite all my efforts to take care of myself. I ate well, worked out, slept, tried to maintain a balance of work & play, meditated, and sought counseling. Yet, I was completely helpless each time I would have an episode of falling into utter hopelessness and despair, which were becoming ever so frequent.

I would often just shut down--eyes glazed over, unable to continue in whatever task I was doing just moments before. Sometimes I would cry. Many times I just really wanted to be by myself and pet a dog. No verbal communication would be required, just eye contact and repeated strokes and scratches. That would be nice because I did not know how to articulate the feelings or thoughts I was experiencing. I felt like I was crazy.

I wondered (and feared that) if I went to the doctor, with what condition I might be diagnosed. I hate taking medication and didn’t want to be prescribed antidepressants if there was a possibility of improving my mood in any other way, but the prospects were looking dim. At one point I mapped out a family tree and realized that there were individuals in both my immediate and extended family who deal with their own set of mental health issues, and that scared me.

I took a genetics course spring of last year, which I absolutely loved, but was also affirming my suspicions that perhaps I was genetically predisposed to some form of mental illness. I also took physiological psychology in efforts to better understand what may have been going on in my brain and body to cause these horrible feelings and thoughts. I can’t really tell if my studies brought more clarity or confusion, but I was clearly on a downward trajectory. I also became frustrated with the idea that it was in my genes to feel this awful all the time. If this is how I was created and how things are going to be for the rest of my life, I hate being myself.

So kind of on a whim I moved to be close to two of my best friends. I had no idea what kinds of emotions or thoughts I would be experiencing in the next few weeks, months, or years, so I figured the best and safest thing I could do for myself was be around people who make me laugh, know when to give me space, and will simply listen as I struggle to process things aloud. Even if I had to deal with all the negative shit for the rest of my life, at least I had some time to figure out how to do it with the support of people who get me, you know?

If you haven’t tried, it’s tremendously difficult summarizing an entire year, especially when you are trying to describe an experience such as a feeling, thought, or state of mind to which you can no longer relate. As a matter of fact, writing this feels like I am describing a made up character or someone I do not know (or maybe like someone with whom you used to be really tight but then you both graduated high school and went to college and now you’re only acquaintances because four years have passed and you haven’t talked the entire time and someone brings up their name and you know absolutely nothing about their life).

What I can say is that I was wrong and anyone who told me that I would be okay and the despair wouldn’t last forever was right. Somehow, right now, I love my life again. I am excited about the future. I am grateful for my genetics. I feel fortunate to have the experiences and relationships that I have had. I still don’t get why things happened the way they did, but I don’t care to know. The past trip around the sun has been a good one. Happy anniversary to me.

Of course, it’s not like this is some huge accomplishment for which I deserve a trophy. I feel I had very little control over how things have gone this past year. Sure, I made a ton of new decisions this year, but I was making decisions to take care of myself during my final year of university and somehow I ended up getting to the point where I was ready to choose to put an end to the madness inside my head.

All I know is that there is such a thing as beneficial and toxic relationships, and if you’re not feeling very enthusiastic about your life, chances are you need to make adjustments to some of those toxic ones, which you probably won’t know are bad until you’ve been removed from the situation for a while. A major red flag for a toxic relationship can be manifested in one of two ways (or both ways too, I guess):

1) You don’t feel like yourself 2) People who know you say you don’t seem like yourself

The bottom line: your relationships with people are what bring meaning to your life, so don’t be afraid to get rid of the ones that consistently cause you stress, grief, pain, regret, frustration, or any other emotion relating to you feeling like shit. Change jobs. Make new friends. Break up with the dude. Set up healthy boundaries for crazy family members. I don't know your situation, but you can do it. You can be happy. You can feel different a year from now.

If you want to hear more about my story, feel free to contact me. I consider myself a pretty open person, although I don’t feel it is appropriate to be overly public on social media with my personal life. Maybe I can give you my thoughts or advice on your situation, if you’d like.

Also, I wanted to post this as a thank you to anyone who has reached out, listened, given advice, said a prayer, worried, or extended any other sort of kind gesture toward me this past year. Thank you for telling me it wouldn’t last forever. Thank you for helping me be the person I am one year after moving to a new state of mind. It makes me happy to have you people in my life.

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deergoeshome · 6 years

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Food for Thought on Food

*I originally wrote the majority of this post in December 2014 and recently discovered the draft in May 2018, so I quickly jotted down points three and four just so I could complete and post this entry. Sorry if it’s not as coherent as I would have liked for it to be!*

As many of you know, in the past few years I have made some changes to my eating habits and overall lifestyle in order to live more healthily.

I previously wrote about some initial observations and revelations a month or so into the journey which, if you care to read about how I felt about putting on 10 lbs in 2-3 weeks as a result of lifting and diet changes, you are welcome to dig through my archives to find that entry (I’m kind of bashful about sharing my past posts because the quality of writing can be pretty embarrassing).

About this time last year I was getting ready for my return home for Christmas break after completing my first semester of college in the Midwest, and I had drawn up a long list of foods in which I had planned to indulge. The items on the list included favorite restaurants, California classics (In-N-Out, carne asada fries), random Asian deserts (boba), foods I wanted to cook at home, mama’s cooking, and a variety of ethnic foods of which I had been deprived living in Oklahoma. Oh how I looked forward to the return to the Golden State where farmers markets run year round and where the diverse community created not only a wonderful amalgam of rich cultures but also tastes, aromas, and dishes. I loaded my three weeks so full of appointments to see (and mostly eat with) friends and family that I’m surprised I managed to take some time to breathe (and digest).

This time around I noticed something different; although I did look forward to mama’s cooking and eating at certain restaurants, I wasn’t as…obsessed.

Obsession does not even begin to adequately describe our culture’s relationship with food in my honest opinion. Good food (fine dining, healthy food, food which you labored all day over to prepare), bad food (deep fried anything, epic meal time creations, elaborate and colorful deserts, supersized portions of everything), weird food (bacon deserts? ramen burgers??)–whatever it is, we must Instagram all the food!

And not to say that I am not guilty of this. I used to take tons of pictures of the beautiful works of art that would enter my stomach just seconds later. I follow food pages. I regularly update my Instagram with stuff I cook for breakfast. I get really excited over a piece of cheesecake. But at some point I thought to myself, “This can’t be healthy,” not only in the sense that our caloric intake is probably way higher than what we need or that we consume massive amounts of nutritionally-void, processed, genetically modified, etc. garbage but in the sense that any obsession is not healthy.

Sure there is nothing wrong with taking pride in a dish you prepared for yourself or others or finding joy in a really good latte or burger or desert. But is food really worth obsessing about? Like foreal, Jesus even says it plainly:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” (Matthew 6:25)

Therefore I decided to implement some modifications to my behavior, kind of as an experiment to see how these changes would affect me physically, socially, and spiritually.

One: I stopped eating so much but I eat all my food.

Not going to lie, I’m not a very large human being, but chances are I can probably out eat you, my dear reader, if I wanted to. Sometimes it can be pretty embarrassing stacking up four or five plates at the cafeteria while others finish up what is on the first (and only) plate.

However, I don’t believe we were ever meant to stuff our faces and tummies on a consistent basis, day in day out. All throughout history, eating has been about providing one’s body with a source of energy and nutrients in order to function properly (paired also with the social aspect to be discussed later), not some ritual to relieve boredom, a practice to which so many of us in the Western world are accustomed.

Also, with 805 million people around the world according to the World Food Programme not having access to enough food to maintain a healthy lifestyle (that’s 1 in every 9 people, people), I decided I would be okay if every now and then I went to bed feeling hungry. When you read about how hunger kills more people every year than AIDS, Malaria, and Tuberculosis combined, your grumbly tummy all of a sudden becomes much more minuscule of a problem.

On the other hand, I made the decision to start eating all of my food–that is, whatever I have on my plate which sometimes means I’ll find that I have bitten off more than I can chew but will force myself to finish everything anyway.

Being raised by parents who had immigrated from Vietnam in the late 80s after living in poverty under the communist regime for the latter part of their time in their home country, it was drilled into my psyche as a young child to never waste food. Like ever. To this day, my parents will insist that labels for expiration dates are merely suggestions, and if any of us are too full to finish our meal, my dad is still the family vacuum cleaner.

Thus, as I grew older and learned that not all families are like mine and that as a whole, the US wastes $165 billion worth of food each year (source), needless to say I was shocked. Okay, maybe bringing up the topic of children dying in Africa whenever someone doesn’t want to finish their food isn’t the most compelling incentive, but how about teaching others that if we are to be good stewards of the earth, we cannot go on wasting as much as we do.

In order to reduce the amount of food I waste, I started to be more mindful of what and how much I choose to buy at the grocery store for the week and put on my plate for a meal. This also allows me to put more thought and therefore value into my food (but in a healthy sense) instead of mindlessly eating whatever is in front of me.

Two: I made the decision to value real food.

Interesting fact about me: I am both the least picky and most picky eater you will ever meet. Although I do have preferences with favorites and least favorites when it comes to my food choices, there are very few items that I would absolutely refuse to eat. It is the product of my upbringing combined with my interest in different cultures and their cuisines. On the flip side, it’s a constant struggle for me to find meals that cater to my dietary needs especially when I eat out. Health nut, food snob, whatever you want to label me–I love being aware of what I put into my body and how it affects my health. Therefore, I shy away from highly processed foods which would include fried, sugary, and nutritionally-void items.

I find that I often have difficulty explaining this to others because people tend to assume that I’m a high-maintenance fitness freak that judges you for getting a slice of pepperoni pizza instead of a salad. It's not that I think that I'm a better person than you or even that my food is necessarily better than yours. Since I made the decision to value real food, it just makes sense to me to consume wholesome foods that were intended to be used to nourish our bodies instead of putting garbage into my system.

Three: I explored alternatives to getting food when spending time with others.

I’m not exactly sure how much money I’ve spent on eating out this last year, but quite frankly I don’t really want to know. It’s probably too much, and I probably can’t recall 90% of those experiences I shared with others.

It is so common to grab a meal, a snack, or a drink whenever you get together with someone, and although there is nothing wrong with this (I’m actually a huge advocate for the importance of communing with others thanks to a really great book called How To Read Literature Like A Professor), I’ve noticed in my life that this can subtract from not only the quality of time we spend together but also how my brain is able to recall those memories.

There is something about breaking away from familiarity that allows us to easily identify those changes to our routines. When I think about the times I’ve caught up with old friends at a restaurant or cafe, it’s really just a vague memory of how you or I were doing at that point in life. I think part of that might be the pressure to continue the conversation throughout the meal to avoid awkward silences, so we come prepared with questions to shoot out whenever we foresee a possible lull coming. It just doesn’t always feel as natural of a flow of words or thoughts when there aren’t any pauses for time to reflect thoughtfully, at least for me.

However, I’ve found that I can more easily recall things like how I felt or jokes that were shared when I can link those things to an experience like going for a walk or hike, visiting a new place, taking the train, surfing, or trying to cook/bake a new recipe. For me, I think this is especially true when I am doing something outside that requires breaks in the conversation, particularly out in nature.

With all that said, I will again point out that I am a huge fan of sharing a dining or communal experience together. I am fascinated by how food plays a huge role in our society as both an economic and social good, and I think one of the best ways to build community is to do so over a meal. But I know that there are also a million other things I could do with friends that will probably stick out in my memory more easily a year or two down the road. Furthermore, changing things up also makes those times I do eat with others more special and memorable.

Four: I cooked or helped cook my meals.

In addition to sharing food together that has been prepared by a cook, pastry chef, barista, food processing plant, bar tender, etc., I think it is really special to be a part of the process in creating something that brings nourishment to another person. I know that not everyone can relate to this, but I find great joy in not only the chopping, mixing, and manipulation of chemical reactions of cooking but also in finding quality ingredients, planning meals, and just feeding people well in general. If we are friends, you better believe I will feed you, and I will feed you well.

I think this was inspired by a teacher I had in high school who would frequently take myself and two other interns out to eat. One day we asked him why he would often pay for all of us, and he simply answered “I’m just doing what Jesus said to do. He said to feed the hungry and you guys are always hungry.”

Something about that really stuck out to me and resonated with my newly found interest in healthy living, so I decided to start cooking more in order to use wholesome ingredients to experiment with different flavors so that I could feed my friends and family healthy foods that tasted good.

Also, in cooking simple meals for myself more often, I also grew to appreciate the natural flavors of the ingredients I was using. I love that the variety of tastes of different vegetables in a salad doesn’t need to be coated with a heavy layer of dressing to be eaten. I like that rice tastes like rice and eggs taste like eggs. The sweetness of a sweet potato is something I can enjoy without slathering it with brown sugar or marshmallows. And I believe spices should be used to enhance the flavors of foods and not to overpower them.

Because our society at large is very removed from the places and processes from which our food comes, I think that actually taking part in the preparation of your food can bring a greater sense of appreciation for not only the flavors of the basic elements that sustain life but the elements in themselves.

On one hand, because the majority of us don’t see how crops are produced and harvested or livestock are raised and slaughtered, so little thought is put into how the agricultural system affects society and the environment, the fact that we do not need to worry about whether or not we will get our next meal, or really just how amazing it is that some carbohydrates, fats, proteins, water, vitamins, and minerals are literally our building blocks. And yet at the same time I find that I spend a LOT of time thinking about eating. Like stressed out because I’m in the car with someone and we are frantically searching through Yelp to figure out a place to eat.

I hate the feeling of being obsessed with anything, especially when it is something like what you’re eating next because you’re not even going to remember it a week or a month later. I also do not like being compulsive with habits like snacking because I’m bored or stressed. And I hope that I would be a person who remains mindful of and grateful for the resources to which I have access.

Thankfully, traveling back to California one year later I was able to enjoy some quality time with people and recognize something called perspective that seemed to be absent previously (at least when it came to my food choices). I’m sure my relationship with food will continue to change the more I learn and as I implement these and other practices, but hopefully something in this body of text will help you live a more fulfilled life.

After all, isn’t life more than food?

Do you have any other thoughts on our relationship with food? Let me know what they are in the comments!

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deergoeshome · 6 years

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Healthy

Healthy has looked different for me these last couple of years. If you consider me a friend, chances are you have some idea of how much I value healthy living and maybe a little bit about my story and why that is.

And if we are more acquaintances than friends, basically towards the end of high school I took an anatomy class with a teacher who encouraged his students to take care of their bodies because these bodies were given to us by a Creator and the best way to honor Him is to take care of the things which He has given us.

So I started working out and cutting out processed foods from my diet. I didn’t consume any foods with added sugars for probably an entire year and I ate little to no carbs/starchy foods, in general. My diet was high in animal proteins, vegetables, fruit, nuts, whole grains, and lots and lots of protein powder (lol). I started out going to the gym 2-3 times each week, and then that turned into 3-5 times each week, and then pretty much 6 out of 7 days. I felt and looked great! I continued in this life style when I went away to college, and it wasn’t ever really a bad thing that I developed some what of a reputation as a health nut/gym rat/whatever you want to call it. The gym was also great for me because it was an effective way of dealing with stress that tends to pile on with academics and relationships.

Healthy to me was this routine: get adequate amounts of sleep, wake up early, read my Bible, hit the gym, protein shake, eat eggs + veggies + meat for breakfast, go to/do well in classes, spend time with friends, spend time by myself (introvert hehe), actively learn about and practice good nutrition/fitness, eat no sugar/refined foods, repeat.

Then classes got harder, relationships more complicated, and time more limited, so I couldn’t keep up with this routine. Even though my diet slowly changed and I wasn’t able to lift weights as frequently, I still considered myself pretty healthy. When I got the chance to get off campus and cook, I did a lot of experimenting with homemade versions of processed foods you might buy at the grocery store like almond milk or granola bars. I also tried some other ways of keeping active besides repeatedly lifting heavy things to gain muscle such as training for a triathlon, mountain biking, hiking, calisthenic training, etc. And although I frequently ate dark chocolate when I was stressed (which was indeed frequent), I also cut out the processed protein powder.

Healthy to me became this: staying active even though I felt like I had lost a lot of muscle (I like being buff and have never been a fan of cardio, if you can’t tell), eating more natural and plant-based foods, and focusing on mental health because I felt like I was drowning (haha it was seriously pretty rough).

There have been a lot of changes this past year for me, and although my food choices and fitness habits seem to be minor compared to all the other changes that have taken place, it is always very humbling to be reminded how much our eating and health practices affect us every day in very obvious ways--mood, ability to focus, digestion, how we view our bodies, and also survival (like really we need to eat to live).

Most recently, my roommate and I have been experimenting with non-meat options for meals. When we moved in, we were discussing expenses and joked about seeing how long we could survive on variations of beans and rice. Because we’re weird and like trying new things, we actually have been (loosely) following this and eating a LOT of different recipes with various kinds of beans and rice (lol). It’s been great!

We also stay active in ways that are pretty different than the versions of ourselves several years ago. She has gotten really into climbing and yoga because she isn’t able to run like she did in high school/college due to some health conditions. Until recently I was still doing some weight training mostly with dumbbells, but I’ve switched over to more running, walking, stretching, body weight training, and playing soccer. And although I will likely get back into lifting soon because I miss it, I decided a few weeks ago to just enjoy the time I spend running instead of focusing on a time or distance I can achieve without stopping to take a break. Often times that looks like doing a run/walk thing and focusing on the fact that I get to be outside and enjoy the weather.

Healthy has become more about practicing habits and eating foods that will sustain me and this planet. It is being mindful of how the foods we put into our mouths affect ourselves and the people, other creatures, environment, and society around us. It is enjoying movement. And because this is always inevitable, it is adapting to change and attempting to ensure that the impact we have is as positive as it can be.

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