mzhong2014

[mzhong2014]

My Promised Land: Key Takeaways

I read My Promised Land because I knew nothing about the Israel-Palestine conflict and thought that this book would provide an illuminating perspective from the Zionist point of view. When I read the first couple chapters, I was immediately engrossed by the beautiful prose that embodies the spiritual, earthly, and violent identity of Israel. This is not a historical nor a policy book. Shavit wrote this as a book of the people, telling personal anecdotes that convey a greater message about Israel’s contradictions, challenges, and triumphs. Here are my takeaways from the book.

Israel is a home for those who before have never had a home

“Yet as the nineteenth century draws to a close, these Jews realize that as much as they care for Europe, Europe does not care for them. For these newly emancipated European Jews, Europe is like a surrogate mother. They look up to her, they worship her, they give her all they have. Then, suddenly, these devoted sons of Europe notice that Europe won’t have them. Europe thinks they smell. Overnight there is a new, strange look in Mother Europe’s eyes. She is about to go insane. They see the insanity dancing in her eyes, and they understand that they must run for their lives.” (19)

The imagery of the abandoned child frequently reappears throughout the book, constantly reaffirming the surrounding society’s hatred for Jews. “Zionism was an orphans’ movement, a desperate crusade of Europe’s orphans” (33). One does not need to restate the horrifying stories of genocide committed against Jews to capture the palpable loneliness of these people. Under this context, Shavit presents the establishment of a permanent homeland as perhaps the only long-term solution to persecution.

But Shavit does not depict his people as childlike. Rather, he portrays founding Israelites as “almost Bolshevik” (28), utilitarian, disciplined, and masculine. Whereas the US has been blessed by ocean moats that kept foreign invasion at bay for much of its history, Israel is the exact opposite. Existential threat permeates their way of living. Shavit writes, “If Israel had been kindly and compassionate, it would have collapsed. Denial was a life-or-death imperative or the nine-year-old nation into which I was born” (162). Regardless of your political views towards Israel, one cannot but help feel some admiration for their resiliency.

Israel is a country of contradictions

The most glaring contradiction is how Israel conquers a land under the fear of persecution, only to push out tens of thousands of Arabs who had been residing peacefully in this land for years. Shavit tries to wrestle with this contradiction, at times chalking up occupation to naïve ignorance, at other times taking full responsibility for the brutality of its reign. Sometimes, Shavit’s defense feels flimsy. “Is this colonialism? If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck” (18). But he continues, the first British Zionists “don’t really represent an empire but a deprived people seeking the help of empires. […] I see no evil. I do not see a condescending attempt to take the poor man’s lamb.” Yet, even if these Zionist individuals did not set out as agents of a colonialist power, how could they remain ignorant of an inevitable conflict with Arab locals? Even if Arab nationalism had not yet been fully formed and Palestine was not yet a sovereignty, can Shavit honestly believe that these Zionists were not trespassing on their land?

However, at this point, there has been such a cycle of retributive justice that occupation is no longer a question of righting wrongs. As Shavit writes about the Conquest of Lydda, “War was inhuman, but it allowed one to do what one could not do in peace; it could solve problems that were unsolvable in peace” (118). Whereas Shavit suggests that early settlers of Israel were able to overlook their Arab neighbors, Shavit recognizes that contemporaries can no longer ignore this fundamental contradiction of Israel. This is a contradiction that must be acknowledged and reconciled at a personal level.

In his attempt to reconcile the atrocities that Israel has committed with the mission that Shavit believes in, he writes, “On the contrary. If need be, I’ll stand by the damned. Because I know that if it wasn’t for them, the State of Israel would not have been born. If it wasn’t for them, I would not have been born. They did the dirty, filthy work that enables my people, myself, my daughter, and my sons to live” (131).

Shavit is not blind to how contemporary Israel treats Palestine. He writes, “For its outstanding economic, social, and engineering achievements, the new Israel paid a dear moral price. There was no notion of human rights, civil rights, due process, or laissez-faire. There was no equality for the Palestinian minority and no compassion for the Palestinian refugees” (151). While fulfilling officer duties at the Gaza Beach Detention Camp, Shavit reflects on his complicity in repressing Palestinian rights: “They scream because my Jewish state makes them scream. In a methodical, orderly, and absolutely legal fashion, my beloved democratic Israel makes them scream” (232). Do democracies only act as democracies until it becomes inconvenient to do so?

Shavit also recognizes that the political tides have turned; the international community now views Israel as the occupier rather than the occupied. It is a Middle East super power with developed nuclear weapons, a booming economy, and a vibrant startup scene. But this country has been receding politically over the past few decades. After the humiliating Yom Kippur Wars, “Suddenly the government of Israel was willing to give up everything. […] there was cynicism, nihilism, defeatism” (207).

Yet as Israel progresses as a nation-state, Shavit recognizes that future generations have become more distant from the political context for the country’s origination story. They have become degrees removed from the Holocaust. Perhaps it is inevitable for every future generation to become lazier and more disillusioned than the prior. They are not as willing to tolerate mandatory conscription or occupation of Palestine. Jews abroad, particularly in America, feel even more distant from their heritage. The question thus arises of how far are millennials willing to go for the Zionist mission.

Israel is a country rooted in the land

Shavit digs his fingers in every nook and cranny of Israel’s terrain to pay homage to the land and fruits it has born to its people. Shavit focuses Israel’s origination story on the barren harsh land that must be conquered only through sheer labor and will power. “Face to face with the elements, face to face with brutal existence, no protection at all. And here, in this desolate valley, we must sculpt our lives. From these rocks we must carve our new foundation” (33). Shavit glorifies the cultivated gardens, the plots of orange groves, and olive oil estates. After all, it is these cherished orange trees that gave rise to Israel’s dominance in citrus export. It is these individual remote farms that sowed Israel’s astronomical rise from the isolated to expansionist power. It is in the idyllic terrain where both Jewish and Palestinian terrorists hid automatic rifles in orange crates as they faced the inevitable conflict. But the earth doesn’t just provide sustenance for Israelites. They represent the uprooting of history, the conquering of the land. In one olive tree nursery, “Jewish workers rallied one day and uprooted the olive trees planted by Arab workers, replanting them with their own hands in order to make a national Jewish statement” (100). Even manual laborers are deeply consciousness of the Zionist mission.

I remain fascinated and intrigued by Israel, and would love to read perspectives from opposing points of views regarding the Israel-Palestine issue. For now, I have begun another book, Jerusalem: The Biography, to deepen my understanding of the underlying religious issues and history of this region. Israel remains one of the most fascinating trips that I’ve taken to date, and I would love to go back whenever this pandemic is over now that I have a greater appreciation for its culture and history.  

[mzhong2014]

A Review of Sense and Sensibility

Jane Austen is one of the few who have been my loyal companion since childhood. I have read four out of her seven novels and some of them many times over. The last time that I read Sense and Sensibility, however, was when I was 13 – ten years ago, if you do the math. What is most interesting about rereading books from my youth is noticing what continues to resonate with me as I grow older, reflecting differences in life experiences and values. However, the second time that I read Sense and Sensibility, I found that the book had not aged well, falling short of her other works in wit and depth.

Austen is a master at creating foils to explore human nature. While she is quite partial to a few characters, these foils are platforms to convey complicated observations on how to conduct oneself. In Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte’s good-humored and practical nature contrasts with Elizabeth’s pride and romanticism, questioning whether marrying for means is a denial of one’s authentic self. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot’s disregard for titles clashes her family’s pride in their lineage. Yet, Anne ultimately agrees that one cannot marry solely on the basis of love. In Sense and Sensibility, Austen explores the differences in temperament between the two beautiful Dashwood sisters, Marianne and Elinor, particularly when it comes to the expression of love. Elinor is reserved, rational, and highly values propriety. Marianne, however, is lively, effusive, and reactive, often expressing exactly what is on her mind without regard to the social setting. While discussing her sister’s potential suitor, Marianne summarizes her philosophy on love,

“Edward is very amiable, and I love him tenderly. But yet – he is not the kind of young man – there is something wanting […] He admires as a lover, not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters must be united. I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings”

For Marianne, love is an art form in itself – an epicurean phenomenon that must engage all of the senses – the heart, soul, mind, and body. Elinor, however, is more measured in her feelings.

“At first, his address is certainly not striking; and his person can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is perceived. At present, I know him so well, that I think him really handsome; or, at least, almost so.”

Here, Elinor is more attuned to Edward’s unstated qualities. Most notable is her observation of his eyes, a common motif in Austen’s books (e.g., Elizabeth’s “fine eyes” in Pride and Prejudice). The eyes represent an unspoken but piercing clarity in thought and character. While the lips may tell lies and fanciful tales, the gaze cannot deceive. Appreciating the eyes requires a depth of perception, and here, Elinor finds merits in Edward that others cannot see.  

Given that the book opens with such contrasting yet closely tied figures, one would expect Austen to add more complexities to the sisters as they each fall in love. However, the characterizations remain binary and cliché, especially given the sisters’ similarities in plot trajectories. Both sisters fall in love with men who are already engaged elsewhere in secrecy. Unsurprisingly, Marianne pursues her love interest, Willoughby, with such passionate fervor that the whole town is convinced that they are engaged. Elinor, however, silently pines after Edward to protect the secrecy of his engagement to her rival, Lucy.

Both are heartbroken when their loved ones marry others but suffer in starkly different ways. Upon learning that Willoughby deceived Marianne, she cries out:

“…misery such as mine has no pride. I care not who knows that I am wretched. The triumph of seeing me so may be open to all the world. Elinor, they who suffer little may be proud and independent as they like – may resist insult, or return mortification – but I cannot. I must feel – I must be wretched – and they are welcome to enjoy the consciousness of it that can.”

Through passionate and beautiful prose, Marianne declares a martyrdom to her feelings. Suffering is her open rebellion against Willoughby’s deceit. As Willougby takes away Marianne’s key source of happiness, she paradoxically reclaims her power by actively destroying her pride and self-worth. Marianne revels in showing her pain. Soon after, Marianne falls under a mortal sickness with an intensity equal to her love for Willoughby. The sickness becomes a symbolic exorcism to expunge her love for Willoughby – an act of self-destruction. For Marianne, there is no boundary between her physicality and emotionality. One speaks for the other at any given moment.

Elinor, however, is as emotionally wounded as Marianne but must suffer silently in order to support her sister while in sickness. There is no connection between the emotional and physical expression of suffering for Elinor. When Marianne finds out that her sister’s love has married Lucy, she exclaims, “What! – while attending me in all my misery, has this been on your heart? – and I have reproached you for being happy!” Elinor responds rationally, stating:

“…while the comfort of others was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt. Now, I can think and speak of it with little emotion. – I would not have you suffer on my account; for I assure you I no longer suffer materially myself.”

               In contrast to Marianne, Elinor treats suffering as a burden for her alone to carry – not that of her loved ones. She withdraws her emotions, finding solace in the preservation of her pride and independence. Elinor can no longer be hurt by Edward once she has dulled the intensity of her emotions.  

What I disliked was how blatantly Austen prefers Elinor over Marianne, leaving the reader with little room to debate their differences in character. Austen portrays Marianne’s open suffering as selfish in comparison to Elinor’s suppression. However, I believe that the opportunity to support a loved one is a cherished and prized responsibility. Furthermore, I find it hard to believe that Edward became attached to Elinor due to her passivity in loving him. Rather, it is Elinor’s active demonstration of love when she helps Edward find financial support for his marriage that shows her merits.

Most notably, Austen shows that Marianne only grows in character once she adopts more of her sister’s senses. Marianne is initially betrayed by her lover, whereas Elinor ultimately ends up with Edward, despite her supposed lack of emotional affectation. While recovering from her illness, Marianne admits, “I saw in my own behavior … nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself, and want of kindness to others.” This is the same judgment that Elinor passes on Marianne’s actions, affirming Elinor’s righteousness and Marianne’s impropriety. Finally, Marianne finds happiness when she marries Colonel Brandon, a sensible man she once proclaimed as having “no brilliancy, his feelings no ardour, and his voice no expression.” Austen only lets Marianne find love once she adopts her sister’s taste in suitors.  

While I found Marianne extremely annoying for most of the book, I found Austen’s prejudice against her to be narrow-minded. There is an honesty in Marianne’s actions, both towards herself and those she loves. Marianne’s proclamation of suffering liberates her from the stifling pretenses of social grace and allows her to stand up for herself. In fact, it is her sickness that holds Willoughby accountable to the pain that he has caused Marianne. Willoughby’s guilt pushes him to confess his mistakes to Elinor, the only moment of growth for the cowardly lover. Upon learning that Willoughby had genuine feelings for Marianne, Marianne is vindicated in her passions, suggesting that such intense love can exist. Marianne’s only fault was in loving a man who lacked her strength in character and loyalty.

Despite the book’s shallow character developments, I found Marianne and Elinor’s sisterly bond tender and compelling. My favorite line in the book is when Elinor tends to the heartbroken Marianne, telling her, “I only wish […] there were anything I could do, which might be of comfort to you” (175). She adds, “I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state” (176). Despite how Marianne’s lack of restraint leads to her downfall, Elinor does not take this moment of vulnerability to assert her superiority in worldviews. Rather, Elinor takes part in Marianne’s sorrow and prioritizes her happiness above all else. Elinor acknowledges that there is little that she can do to cure her pains, but offers what she can – her confidence, sympathy, and unconditional love. One can imagine how Austen’s devout love for her sister Cassandra informed her depictions of such sisterly bonds.

To be fair, Sense and Sensibility was one of Austen’s first novels that she drafted as an author. In various parts of the book, one can observe the emergence of Austen’s quick witticism that would become a defining feature in her penmanship. When the Dashwoods debate who should marry Miss Morton, discussing Edward and Robert as if they were interchangeable, Elinor quips, “The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair.” Despite its shortcomings, the book remains a pleasant read.

[mzhong2014]

Trip to Banff

While planning how to best exploit my company’s alt-travel policy this summer, I chose Banff as a destination for a meditative weekend trip to find a peace of mind from the hectic quotidian. I had solo traveled plenty before this trip, but never while hiking. Given my clumsy disposition and lack of street smarts, my one rule had been to never hike alone. However, nobody was free to accompany me and I couldn’t resist the temptation of the beautiful glacier melts and Canadian mountains. I also figured that since I’m traveling to Kazakhstan alone to hike around Almaty, I should ease into solo hiking with a highly frequented national park where someone would at least know within 24 hours if I were to fall off a cliff and break my neck – which probably won’t be the case in Kazakhstan (note: I checked Alltrails and their most popular hike has 3 reviews… one of them is in Russian.) Additionally, I had hoped that in undertaking this trip, I would become empowered by my independence and ability to disconnect from those whom I heavily rely on for support. This hike would be about me, myself, and I, with nobody to catch me if I fell.

Ironically, while I had looked forward to a trip of complete silence and solitude, I found myself constantly surrounded by people, which I was grateful for as I still greatly depended on the generosity of others.

I woke up in Calgary on a Friday morning and went on a quick six-mile jog to enjoy the refreshing Canadian climate. When I returned to my hotel room and pulled out my key card to unlock the door, I realized that I had lost my driver’s license and credit card during my run. I didn’t panic and proceeded to retrace my steps, figuring that they probably fell out while I was checking the mileage on my phone. Thirty minutes passed by and I still hadn’t found my license and credit card. Okay, this is problematic, I thought while trying to stay calm, considering how I need my license to rent a car for my drive from Calgary to Banff. I called Chase to cancel my credit card and rummaged through my brain for alternative options to get to Banff. Turo? Potentially, but risky if the owner asks to check my license in person. Bus? Possibly – but highly inconvenient given my limited schedule and distance from Calgary to Canmore, where I was staying.

Then I realized that one of my colleagues was also in Calgary since he was driving to National Glacier Park for the weekend. Overflowing with promises to do literally any favor he ever needs in the future (“If you are ever abandoned in Antarctica, I will rent you a helicopter to rescue you”, to which he replied, “uh… that’s oddly specific”), I asked him if he would put the rental car under his name, while asserting that he shouldn’t agree if he didn’t feel comfortable carrying this liability. Since he is an angel, he agreed to rent the car for me, so long as I promised “not to make him regret being a nice person.” He also watched me endure a mini heart attack when the bill for the car rental came out to be twice the price quoted online. That day, I literally only ate a medium Domino’s cheese pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner to trim a few dollars here and there.

Less than 24 hours in Canada passed by and I had already lost my license and credit card, but I was on my merry way to Canmore, where my hostel was located. As I drove west towards dusk, the warmth of the falling sun embraced the alpine mountains that welcomed me into the countryside, captivating me with their majestic beauty. These were the moments I had been craving while planning my trip – when the noise in your mind trickles down to a hum, and for a second, you can clearly see beyond your minute existence. Compared to the chasms of tectonic plates, epochs of construction and destruction to summon up these staggering mountain peaks, you realize that the scars on your heart are but mere lines in the sand awash in the narrative of human existence. These are the quiet, timeless, ephemeral moments that I so cherish. When I arrived at Canmore, I soon passed out so I could wake up at 5:30 am for an hour-long drive to Banff.

Groggily setting out for Banff at 5:45 am, my amazement at the natural landscape only heightened as I was met by one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever witnessed. Whereas in the SoCal desert, sunrises paint the sky with vivid hues of pink and purple, they are much more subdued in the North. Rather, the sun peeks out from behind the mountains and the sky brightens so gradually that you hardly realize that it’s no longer pitch black.  

For my Saturday hike, I decided to summit Cirque Peak via Helen Lake, a 10 mile hike estimated to take about 7-8 hours. I knew that I wanted to peak a mountain while at Banff, but unlike Mt. Rundle and Cascade Mountain, the scramble at the end did not require advanced technical experience. I am also an adrenaline junkie and could not resist the challenge of completing one of the most highly rated “Hard” trails on Alltrail.

When I got to the trailhead, I saw a group of girls around my age and asked if I could join them as I was deep in bear country. They were kind enough to let me walk with them and even offered their coffee and oatmeal. The girls were from Mexico and had just finished a season of apple picking in Canada, so they were doing a cross-country road trip. The nice thing about internationals is how they don’t feel the need to constantly talk to feel connected with one another, giving me the mental space to soak in the beauty of the surrounding nature while enjoying their company. We stayed together and reached Helen Lake but went our separate ways as I hiked towards Cirque Peak.  

When I started the scramble to Cirque Peak, I became nervous as I couldn’t clearly identify the trail. The entire peak was made up of loose scree with steep 90-degree drop-offs and two feet wide paths. I felt like I was walking on eggshells and the walkway soon disappeared. The weather looked dreary as clouds swarmed in with no opening insight. A couple ahead of me began to turn back, and I asked them for their diagnosis. They told me that the route looked sketchy and that there was no room for error with the incoming weather. I was torn since I really wanted to summit a mountain and knew that I wouldn’t have time on Sunday. It takes me considerable will power to turn away from goal once set. However, I decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

As I walked back, I met a group of spritely college students who were also assessing the situation. By then, I had already decided to turn back, but as the sky opened up with a small patch of blue, I saw them move forward with the hike. I couldn’t resist this opportunity since I didn’t know when would be the next time I’d be in Banff, so I decided to follow them. They warmly adopted me into their group, likely realizing that I had no idea what I was doing. I was grateful for this, especially when the walkway disappeared and we had to climb over the ridge to get to the switchbacks leading up to the peak.

However, the good weather did not last long. Once we climbed over the ridge, the winds resumed to blow forcefully at us and it started raining, making the last mile of switchbacks look even more daunting. We powwowed to discuss whether or not to continue, and they eventually decided to turn back before the weather got worse. I, however, was determined to summit because I had already paid $320 for a rental car to get to Banff. There was another couple ahead on the switchbacks, and I figured that if I could catch up with them, then I wouldn’t be alone on the trepidatious route back across the ridge. I began to power through the switchbacks, but the weather worsened with no openings in sight and I was quickly losing steam. When I looked up again to identify the couple, they were at least 30 minutes ahead of me and I didn’t want to climb across the slippery rocks alone. Resigned to defeat, I ran back and caught up with the group for the hike back.

In the end, I probably could have summited Cirque Peak as the weather eventually cleared up, but the group’s infectious energy buoyed my spirits after this disappointment. They were extremely kind, curious, and vivacious, and we discussed everything from our college experiences to Nacho Libre, “one of the best movies in history,” second only to Hot Rod. These refreshing experiences challenge my deep-seated cynicism in human nature, making me wonder whether I should have more faith in humanity.

After the hike, I parted from the group and drove back to Canmore for dinner. I was exhausted and starving, so I went to a local café (Graze Food) to grab a quick bite. When I asked for a table for one, they told me that there was a wait since they moved everyone from the patio indoors due to the weather. I began to look for other restaurants when two Canadian ladies offered to let me join their table if a table for four freed up. A table of four did free up before a table for one or two, so I joined these ladies for an incredibly charming dinner. Their friendliness was so quintessentially Canadian, although I like to think that their kindness reflected more their choices as individuals than cultural upbringings. They shared their Caesar Cocktail to prove that their Canadian version of the Bloody Mary was far superior. They showed me pictures of their hike and insisted that I let them know when I next visit so that we can go hiking together. At the end of dinner, they even added me on Instagram so that we could stay in touch and have since implored me to visit again.

In contrast to my first day in Banff, I was mostly alone during my second day. I set out for Lake Moraine at 4:45 am – painfully so as I had gone to bed around 11 pm to finish packing. One of the downsides of Banff’s magnetic beauty is how it draws in herds of crowds, all vying to see the hot spots, e.g., Lake Louise, Lake Moraine, etc. The entire drive was pitch black, and with no stores open, I could not rely on coffee to give me an extra boost of energy. The only thing keeping me from falling asleep at the wheel was sheer will power and blasting Guns N’Roses at the highest volume. Despite my early morning drive, when I got to the parking lot at 6 am, it was already full. Luckily, I caught a car pulling out of the parking lot and snagged a spot. I immediately napped for 30 minutes in my car, and when I woke up, I just caught the tail-end of sky transforming from night into day.

I was initially skeptical of whether Lake Moraine would be worth the early wakeup call, but when I witnessed the raw beauty in all its vastness, I felt immediately redeemed. I climbed down the rocks and sat in complete peace, reflecting on all that I had learned this past year, the breathtaking beauty of the present, and paralyzing uncertainty of the future. I continued my meditations while kayaking at the lake, mesmerized by the cerulean blue waters of glacial melt.

For the rest of the day, I frolicked around Johnston Canyon and the Inkpots. It is incredible how there is such a variety of terrain within a single park, from waterfalls to alpine forests, lakes to barren mountain peaks. I had to leave Banff in the afternoon to catch my flight at 7 pm, so I savored every minute of the mountain scenery. I was sad to leave Banff, and in fact, on my drive back, a rainbow appeared in the sky following a rain shower. I dropped off the car at the rental location by the airport and lugged my dusty backpack to check-in at the airport. The trip was everything I had wanted and more.

I went to a self-service kiosk and punched in the confirmation code for my ticket, but an error showed up. I tried again multiple times and figured that there was something wrong with the machine, so I go up to an agent at the help desk to check into the flight.

“Check-in has closed,” the agent tells me while returning my passport.  

I look at her in complete shock as I am just an hour early to my flight.

“I’m an hour early to my flight, what are you talking about?”

“The system won’t let me check you in. There’s nothing that I can do.”

This was the last flight back to my client site that day and rebooking my flight would cost $300.

“How is this possible if I’m an hour early to the flight? The flight is delayed.”

“Check-in closed five minutes ago even though the flight is delayed since the plane can be switched at any time. Also, five minutes is a really long time for us,” she retorted.

After managing to get myself to and from Banff despite losing my license and credit card, the 5 am drives, and solo hikes in bear country, I broke down into tears when I realized that there was nothing I could do to get onto my flight. I had traveled here to prove my self-reliance, and during the moment when I truly could not depend on anyone but myself, I crumpled. It didn’t matter that I had enjoyed such breathtaking beauty -- all I could think about was how lonely it felt to be truly responsible for your mistakes. By missing my flight, I had to stay an extra night in Calgary and show up to work two hours late, further burdening my team after my colleague had just saved my ass with the rental car. I even began to feel meta-feelings about my failure to react gracefully to the situation. I was in a privileged position where I can afford to throw away $300. I was healthy and nobody was dying. Why was I so upset? I was determined to not let this ending sour my trip, but I couldn’t help my feelings of bitterness and injustice at the world (even though it was really my fault for not checking-in on time).

Despite my attempts to be spontaneous and detached from the trivial pains of life, I was still deeply vulnerable to the minute ups and downs of life. A peace of mind isn’t something that you stumble upon through merely changing your external environments, but an attitude that must be deeply engrained regardless of your surroundings. I enjoyed a pleasant reprieve from my personal life and work, but I never escaped myself and all of the baggage that comes with being me. Fortunately, I am very thankful to be surrounded by people (and even strangers) who are willing to put up with me for some miraculous reason. I stayed the night at Calgary and woke up the next day $300 poorer, but a smidge more humbled by nature’s beauty and rigid rules of the airline industry.

[mzhong2014]

Reading digest 8/4-8/10

What It's Like to Learn You're Going to Die

“Nessa Coyle calls it ‘the existential slap’—that moment when a dying person first comprehends, on a gut level, that death is close. For many, the realization comes suddenly: ‘The usual habit of allowing thoughts of death to remain in the background is now impossible,’ Coyle, a nurse and palliative-care pioneer, has written. ‘Death can no longer be denied.’”

Ironically, this article about death made me think more critically about what it means to be alive. Death is not simply a physical experience, but also one of the soul. I believe that your soul experiences multiple deaths of the nonphysical form throughout life that fundamentally alter the Self -- the death of a romance, death of friendship, the death of a dream, etc. Although these experiences may reappear, they are never reincarnated in the same form, creating a sense of permanence of these nonphysical deaths. So long as one is still living, one is always surrounded by death. 

Perhaps change, both good and bad, can only be done through the death of parts of the Self -- hence why change is so painful. But in the process of destroying and morphing the Self, one is faced with existential questions of what is intrinsic to the Self. If nothing is intrinsic, then does the Self truly exist? 

“In this crisis, some people feel depression or despair or anger, or all three. They grieve. They grapple with a loss of meaning. A person’s whole belief system may be called into question because ‘virtually every aspect of their life will be threatened by changes imposed by the [disease] and its management,’ Lee has written. In a small 2011 Danish study, patients with an incurable esophageal cancer reported that after their diagnosis, their lives seemed to spin out of control. Some wondered why they had received a fatal diagnosis, and fell into despair and hopelessness. ‘I didn’t care about anything,’ one patient said. ‘I had just about given up.’”

Religion aside (which is not a trivial parameter to constrain), physical death is the ultimate destruction of the Self because it destroys both the conscience and the body. Although I have never had a near-death experience, I have had moments in my life where an essential part of my Self was stripped away, leading me to spiral into self-destruction as my perception of reality loses all grounding. During these existential crises, the Self is reduced to the physical body as foundational beliefs that distinguish us from fully functioning robots are blown up into smithereens. Death presents the possibility of rendering all meaning meaningless by denying the existence of both the conscience and body.  

Given the overwhelming difficulty of conceptualizing death, I found the following excerpt particularly interesting:

“Palliative-care doctors used to think that a patient was either in a state of denial or a state of acceptance, period, Rodin says. But now he and his colleagues believe people are more likely to move back and forth. ‘You have to live with awareness of dying, and at the same time balance it against staying engaged in life,’ he says. ‘It’s being able to hold that duality—which we call double awareness—that we think is a fundamental task.’

Whether or not people are able to find that balance, the existential crisis doesn’t last; patients can’t remain long in a state of acute anxiety. Coyle has found in her work that later peaks of distress are not usually as severe as that first wave. ‘Once you’ve faced [death] like that once, it’s not new knowledge in your consciousness anymore,’ she says.”

To live in the face of death is perhaps to feel so acutely what it means to be alive because living is no longer defined in a vacuum of false immortality, but in negation with death. Using this analogy for the nonfatal deaths experienced throughout life, these moments of acute pain remind us what it means to live, and thus what it means to die. But to continuously live in agony of death is to define life as purely a shadow of death, a permanent and unconquerable state of being. Unable to continuously live in this duality, the concept of death shows the limitations of the human mind. But perhaps those who are more able to strike this balance are those who can appreciate simultaneously the concept of life and death. Just as how living makes us fearful of dying, death makes us more appreciative of life and how much we have to lose -- not just of our physical existence, but also of our soul. 

He’s Your Destiny. Just Be Patient.

In every single relationship that I’ve had, I always run up against the following question: Do you just know when you’ve met the right person? Or does your partner become the right person through hard work and patience of both parties? 

As someone who is a strong believer in free will but also has compulsive overthinking tendencies and is prone to identifying patterns in meaningless trends in this noisy and chaotic world, my philosophy has wildly oscillated from believing in the ability of sheer willpower to overcoming incompatibilities to trying to concoct a scientific framework of key inputs to forecasting the future of a relationship.

This article is quite fitting because it shows us the irony of life, both in creating incredibly unlikely circumstances that seem to follow the narrative of a certain trajectory, as well as in surprising us with outcomes far from what one had expected. For Stefanie, the author, this irony is encapsulated in a tarot card reading. During this reading, the author learns that she will 1) soon leave NYC, 2) face a career of unexpected turns, and 3) reunite with her ex in three years time but will have other relationships that don’t work out in the meantime. 

The first two come true, and after leaving NYC for Detroit, she meets a guy named Brandon. 

“I fell very much in love with Brandon. There was no lightning strike of certainty but rather a slow warming that grew into something sweet. I wanted to marry him, and I told him so. I daydreamed about painting walls and walking dogs and all of the ways in which we would build a future together.”

After two years of falling in love with Brandon, Stefanie moves to LA for her work and finds herself in the same city with the ex she is destined to be with. One can only imagine how everything leading up to this moment has been a journey towards that destined love, that all of the pain and heartbreak, learning and growing, has prepared her to reunite with the One. 

“I finally wrote an email to my ex.

‘Hey’” I began casually, as if this greeting had not weighed heavily on me for ages. ‘It’s been so, so, so, so long. I live in LA now and I know you know that. I guess I’m hoping it’s finally time to have coffee and say hi? Whaddya think?’

After three years of wondering, I had to wait only a few hours for his response.

‘Yo yo,’ he wrote. ‘I appreciate the guts it must’ve taken to reach out, but I’m not really interested in grabbing coffee, sorry. I do sincerely hope everything in your world is awesome though!’

And that was that. No destiny. No lightning strike. No certainty written in the cards.”

A few months later, Stefanie and Brandon break up because they have drifted apart from each other and have become different people.

“We didn’t break up because the cards said we would, nor was it a failure of the cards that my ex and I didn’t reunite. I chose to believe in the possibility that there was some perfectly pre-written story that I was only playing a role in, but there was no pre-written story for Brandon and me. There’s no pre-written story for anyone.

And isn’t that part of the bargain we strike with our partners? That we are willing to live together inside of a story being written rather than a story already told? And that trying to see the future before it happens is just an attempt to make the terrible uncertainty about being in love, and staying in love, a little easier to bear.“

I love the ending of this article because it shows the absurdity in trying to predict the future as it unrolls, creating narratives out of disparate crumbs of faded memories and desires. It doesn’t answer the question of whether there are people out there destined for us or whether the success of a relationship is a result of sheer luck and hard work. It tells us that we don’t know, and that we choose how to cope with this uncertainty. But regardless of whether a relationship is fated to be, this does not deny the love that one feels when there is something “true and deep” between two people. 

November Rain

I really love this song, and more generally, Guns N’Roses. The raw emotions in the song and lyrics capture the essence of emotional vulnerability. 

“When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained But darlin' when I hold you Don't you know I feel the same

Nothin' lasts forever And we both know hearts can change And it's hard to hold a candle In the cold November rain”

The imagery in the last two verses in this stanza shows the fragile, ephemeral, and fickle nature of love.  

“And when your fears subside And shadows still remain, oh yeah I know that you can love me When there's no one left to blame So never mind the darkness We still can find a way 'Cause nothin' lasts forever Even cold November rain”

After a great guitar solo, Rose sings these verses that I find to be so magnetic. It’s a message of hope, but tempered hope. Just as love fades and dies, even darkness must eventually subside. 

Putin plays judo, not chess

I found this to be a really clever analogy for Russia’s strategy in the international stage considering how judo is one of Putin’s favorite past times (how I pity Russian athletes that are pitted against him.) 

“In judo, a seemingly weaker practitioner can rely on inner strength and force of will to defeat a larger, stronger foe. One basic technique involves putting an opponent off balance and taking advantage of his temporary disorientation to strike a winning blow. Mr. Putin has proved adept at seizing opportunities presented by the West’s disarray and its leaders’ indecisiveness. He had a plan to restore Russia as a great power when he took over from Yeltsin; the U.S. has had no comparable strategy in the post-Cold War era, and Russia has taken advantage against its much stronger competitor.”

AKA US needs to get its cybersecurity policy together. 

Being a Law Firm Partner Was Once a Job for Life. That Culture Is All but Dead.

One of my biggest qualms of going to law school to practice law is the incentive system. Lawyers are billed on hours worked, not sales generated or results delivered. Thus, I was surprised that this article paints this shift towards a compensation model found in finance and consulting negatively. The hourly billings model creates an incentive for longer hours regardless of the quality of the deliverable, which trickles down to the associate-level and creates this poor work culture that already faces workaholic pressures by virtue of being client-facing. 

Also, this shift in model doesn’t necessarily mean that being a partner is no longer a cushy position. This doesn’t change the fact that partners would still take profit sharing of retaining client relationships, which they should be able to do as long as they don’t seriously screw up anything. I also don’t think that partners should get an easy pass once they achieve this rank. If you’re making that much as your annual salary, your value-add better be worth a few million dollars. 

Gun Policy in America: An Overview and What Science Tells Us About the Effects of Gun Policies

I find gun policy to be one of the most frustrating and mindboggling issues in politics. How can both sides of the aisle react so vehemently to the tragedy of mass shootings, yet have such different conceptions of what are their root causes and appropriate policy reactions? Additionally, why is this issue so partisan? Do gun issues symbolize the partisan disagreement on protecting personal rights at the expense of greater safety of the nation or clashing of personal identities between the isolated inhabitants of rural regions and the disconnected elitists of metropolitans? I’m not exactly sure why gun regulation has become so divisive, but I do know that protecting people’s lives should rise above the petty politics of partisanship.

RAND, a global think tank that covers both domestic and international policy issues, has tried to dissect these issues in an objective, nonpartisan, and analytical manner. From its preliminary research, what is clear is that there isn’t enough conclusive and rigorous research on gun policy, and that the government should appropriate more funds for researching gun regulation. In fact, “the U.S. government has spent just 1.6 percent as much on gun policy research as it has on research involving causes of similar levels of mortality in the United States, such as traffic accidents or sepsis” (Morral). I don’t know if this is because of lobbying efforts from pro-gun organizations, but investing in high-quality research is one of the first steps to fixing this issue.  

A few issues with researching gun policy include the lack of reliable data sets and the inconsistent categorization of different gun policies. Data sets are limited in sample size and the availability of historical information. New policies affect only a small fraction of guns purchased every year of the population of gun owners (e.g., prohibitions against the mentally ill). The lack of historical data makes it difficult to establish a causal relationship between passing gun regulation and perceived changes in gun violence. The difficulty of establishing strong evidence for a causal relationship between gun regulation and gun violence, however, may be a chicken and the egg problem. If there aren’t enough examples of states passing gun regulation, there aren’t many case studies to draw from for analysis.

Despite the difficulty of researching gun regulation, there are a few gun policies with strong evidence of its impact on gun violence. RAND defines supportive as having three studies showing significant effects in the same direction using two independent data sets, with no other studies of comparable or greater rigor contradicting its findings.

Interestingly, studies on child-access prevention laws are able to draw from larger data sets because of a larger proportion of gun-owning households also have kids (e.g., in contrast to the population of gun owners that commit domestic violence). There is also moderate evidence that background checks reduce suicide and violent crime, and that prohibitions on the mentally ill decrease while stand your ground laws increases violent crime.

Also, just because a policy has inconclusive evidence on its impact on reducing gun violence, this doesn’t mean that the policy is ineffective. Rather, there isn’t evidence to prove its effectiveness – unsurprising, given the relative rarity of mass shootings (which is unfortunately changing as we speak).

However, it is fair to claim that even if with more conclusive evidence on gun policy, this would not bring our government any closer to a political resolution on how to effectively regulate gun ownership. For example, climate change issues have strong evidence for the relationship between manmade pollution on global increase in temperatures. However, the lack of rigorous and conclusive research makes it even more difficult to agree on any changes in gun policy, which is clearly needed to curb recent increases in gun violence.  

[mzhong2014]

Weekly reading digest (7/28-8/3)

A break to remember: Stanford faculty reminisce about their college summers:

Reading about the faculty members whom I admire so much, this was a humanizing post that reminded me that everyone has struggled through the routine and impossible just like you have. My favorite quote from Ambassador Eikenberry about his summer learning how to jump out of an aircraft while at the US Army Airborne School. Ambassador Eikenberry is the embodiment of poise, humbleness, and courage, so I particularly enjoyed reading his blurb:

“As the aircraft rumbled toward the drop zone, one of the cadre, a very seasoned sergeant, gets in front of me, grabs my two shoulder straps, looks me in the face and because of the deafening engine noise, shouted at me: ‘Airborne,’– which is how all students are addressed – ‘are you nervous?’

And although I was nervous, I gave the answer I thought he wanted to hear.

‘No, Sergeant,’ I said. ‘I’m not nervous.’

The sergeant looked at me and very calmly said: ‘Airborne, I want you to be nervous. This is your first jump.’

I’ll never forget that expression on his face and his sincerity.

‘Every time you jump out of an airplane in the future, I want you to be nervous,’ the sergeant said to me. ‘Because when you are nervous, you are thinking hard about the challenge you are facing. In your mind, you are going through all the training you had – what is the next thing to do and what to do should something go wrong.’

And then he said: ‘What I don’t want you to do is be afraid. Be nervous, but don’t be afraid. If you let your fears control you, then you are going to make a mistake.’”

To be great, you must first be vulnerable. 

The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court

I started listening to this on audiobook when I spontaneously decided to drive to San Diego at 10;30 pm on a Saturday night and back Sunday afternoon (totaling 5 hours of driving).

The Brethren is written by Bob Woodward, yes, one of the reporters of the Wategate Scandal. Earlier this year, I grabbed coffee with a litigator in an effort to shed light on the mysterious question of what does it mean to be a lawyer. He recommended this book to help elucidate this question, and only 30 minutes into the audiobook, I understood why. It is perhaps the most intimate account of the prestigious Supreme Court, uncovering the day-to-day scenes hidden behind the white marble columns and impressive wooden bench. In contrast to my other readings that cover the intellectual origins of the judiciary branch, The Brethren shows how the justice system works in a very raw and real-life manner. Spanning 1969-1975 during Burger’s early years as Chief Justice, it shows exactly how politics mixes with the supposedly nonpartisan judiciary system, the nitty-gritty of how varying legal philosophies translate to vastly diverse approaches towards handling legal issues (especially during a very contentious period with the civil rights movement), as well as how the different personalities impacted the very tactical routines of the Supreme Court.

No specific quotes because, unfortunately, I do not have the auditory version of photographic memory, but initial reactions:  

I was surprised by how the Justice’s different opinions extended beyond the question of whether something was constitutional, but also the question of how do policymakers tactically carry out a Supreme Court decision. For example, the first few chapters focused on the decision around how to issue a court order regarding Brown v Board of Education as Southern states dug their heels in to prolong the delay of integration of schools. Because of the vague phrasing used in the ruling opinion, “with all deliberate speed,” lawyers were using this language to justify these 15-year delays. The court order had to achieve and balance a number of objectives: avoid appearing submissive to the delay and admonish any attempts to prevent integration while balancing the practical concerns for allowing time to let schools create and implement a sound plan for integration to minimize the chaos / violence during this time. But should these practical considerations be up to the judiciary branch to decide? 

As a junior consultant, it was interesting to see how exactly the Justices manage their clerks and how each Justice’s personality dictated their working norms -- shows how collegial the Court is but also how political it can be 

It was also interesting to see the different philosophies that the Justices had towards being a judge. To grossly generalize, the Justices had very different opinions on the degree to which they cared about being legally rigorous in their opinions versus arriving at some legal conclusion with considerable political and social implications

The Brothers Karamazov: Ivan’s Rebellion

One of the most famous passages in The Brother’s Karamazov is Ivan’s rebellion, where he rejects God of his justice system. The dialogue occurs between Ivan, the intellectual of his three brothers, and Alyosha, the most spiritually pure of the three. Ivan focuses his argument on the suffering of children to illustrate the injustice of God. 

“I won't speak of grown-up people is that, besides being disgusting and unworthy of love, they have a compensation—they've eaten the apple and know good and evil, and they have become 'like gods.' They go on eating it still. But the children haven't eaten anything, and are so far innocent.”

Ivan proceeds to provide anecdotes that he has collected of children suffering – which are based on true stories that Dostoevsky collected from the newspaper. Ivan recounts tales of how the Turks cut open “the unborn child from the mother’s womb,” skewering babies with their bayonets in glee. He tells another story of a five-year old girl beaten to pulp by her parents, her mouth smeared with excrement, left to sleep in the cold frost of an outhouse. With relentless momentum, Ivan recounts his last story about a serf-boy who throws a stone at a kennel of hounds, and hurts the paw of a general’s dog. The child is summoned to the general and stripped naked.

“He shivers, numb with terror, not daring to cry… 'Make him run,' commands the general. 'Run! run!' shout the dog-boys. The boy runs…'At him!' yells the general, and he sets the whole pack of hounds on the child. The hounds catch him, and tear him to pieces before his mother's eyes!”

The Bible reasons that all, including children, must suffer for man’s sin. Even the most innocent, children, “must suffer for their fathers' sins, they must be punished for their fathers, who have eaten the apple.” These damned children, Ivan continues, some may twistedly suggest that “the child would have grown up and have sinned, but you see he didn't grow up, he was torn to pieces by the dogs, at eight years old.”  

Ivan concludes that he cannot accept God if his justice requires children to suffer for an “eternal harmony.”

“I must have justice, or I will destroy myself. And not justice in some remote infinite time and space, but here on earth, and that I could see myself. I have believed in it. I want to see it, and if I am dead by then, let me rise again, for if it all happens without me, it will be too unfair. Surely I haven't suffered simply that I, my crimes and my sufferings, may manure the soil of the future harmony for somebody else. I want to see with my own eyes the hind lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when everyone suddenly understands what it has all been for. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer. But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That's a question I can't answer.

[…]

While there is still time, I hasten to protect myself, and so I renounce the higher harmony altogether. It's not worth the tears of that one tortured child who beat itself on the breast with its little fist and prayed in its stinking outhouse, with its unexpiated tears to 'dear, kind God'! It's not worth it, because those tears are unatoned for. They must be atoned for, or there can be no harmony. But how? How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? By their being avenged? But what do I care for avenging them? What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? And what becomes of harmony, if there is hell? I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don't want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price.”

And that is the crux of the passage – the prospect of an eternal harmony is not worth the suffering of the innocent to repent for the Sin of Man.

In face of our inability to find the meaning of seemingly meaningless suffering in the empirical and physical world, we are faced with two options: 1) consult the transcendental for truths that lie outside of our physical world or 2) turn inwards to provide meaning ourselves. Both are fairly unsatisfactory frameworks, in my opinion. An argument against the first is well illustrated above, and there is little that I can add of intellectual value to Dostoevsky’s work. 

As for the second point, everyone tells you during intense moments of suffering that you will always learn something in hindsight -- in an attempt to imbue seemingly meaningless suffering with meaning. After all, the human mind cannot fathom the possibility of meaningless suffering -- that all of this pain is for nothing; that there is no such thing as karma or justness in the world. This seems equally absurd because why does learning have to require so much suffering? Are humans just too dumb to learn from happy experiences? 

For the meantime, I’m not sure what exactly sure why there is so much suffering in life and whether it is justified by some external or internal truths. For now, all that I know is that a lot of terrible things in life happen, and all that humans can do is simply react to them.