The Light of Love
February 11th, 2021
Thursday
51 days until deadline
I was fairly awake when the alarm rang, yet I chose to remain in bed, one part due to my unfinished dream, and one part due to my unwillingness to face life. Sleep is the closest thing I could experience as self-annihilation.
Around 10:30 AM I had a video call with my parents back in Beijing. They have had a couple of wine at that point. Their loquaciousness was a clue. Sometimes I feel big festivals like this are meant to give them a chance to drink and speak their mind when under normal circumstances repression of one’s feelings and opinions is the default way to deal with life.
It was within this new-found honesty powered by a wine from Australia that my mother admitted that perhaps they were using their unfinished dream to live in America to influence my decision, with or without their awareness, that perhaps I was mad at them for pushing myself into such a lonely prospect. She certainly phrased the question in a strategic manner, never admitting any guilt yet was curious to know if I still blame them. That was her way of apologizing, asking me if I still blame them.
She first mentioned how one of her colleagues got diagnosed with breast cancer and how that news shocked her to her core, because of how perky and put together that colleague is and how cancer could just show up like that without warning, smashing all the illusions of safety and happiness that one is supposed to enjoy at old age. Being narcissistic as I am, I naturally assumed she was talking about me in some way, for it has been six years since I came out to my parents yet she is still in denial, hoping that one day I would give her grandchildren, for being a grandparent is one of those things that could bring great meanings and joy into the inevitable decline that is retirement.
The most heartbreaking part of the conversation was perhaps my mother admitting how headstrong and cowardly she had been. The headstrong part wasn’t a surprise, since almost everybody around her probably at one point in time had shared that observation with her, about how she thinks only her opinion matters and how she thinks everyone else are idiots.
我不想和自己较劲，所以我人生也就这样了。要是当初勇敢点可能会少一点遗憾吧。
– My Mom
I have observed that distinct sadness of hers before, knowing about her lost dream of being a journalist and a writer, also knowing that she was in such a denial that she would never allow herself to mourn this loss. I was wrong. She was in mourning, just never to me or to herself.
Here I was, thinking how my mother is a character from my book who would never have the self-awareness to observe her qualities the way I do, yet every piece of evidence pointed to the contrary. Everybody has the self-awareness to confront their deepest flaw and regret, just not everyone is willing to deal with the emotions such awareness would stir up and the consequential actions one must take to align our insights with the way we conduct our lives.
I am abundant with the luxury of youth, yet I act old as a way to run away from my life, not unlike my desire to stay in the warmth of my bed, to never leave the comfort of the metaphorical uterus. Yet I am here, out of the uterus, out in the real world, and as much as I want to sit back and do nothing, you know it’s simply a reaction to fear. The unknown is scary. The familiar is comforting. Yet the unknown is where life happens, and the familiar is where regret dwells.
Do not regret the past. What is the use of regrets? The lie says that you should regret. The truth says you should be filled with love. Push all sad memories away from you. Do not speak of the past. Live in the light of love, and all things will be given to you.
– Persian Wisdom
It was the light of love that brought me to Berlin, for I have seen it with my own eyes how brightly it shines. I have seen the life I could have if I was just a bit braver, if I could just follow this light without ruminating about my loss and fear.
Let there be love, and let there be light.
