On Disappearing Hobbies, Friendships Close and Far, Ways of Being, Saying No and Returning Home

a poem series for KTHT weekly prompts

Monday: How many of the things I fantasize about already exist in some form in my present reality?

Gratitude

To the $10 microwave $2 coffee pourover and hardy, apocalypse resistant glass tupperware

the things I fantasized about most were often objects related to creativity especially creativity related to food.

To me, creativity in food comes with a beautifully in-built cycle that does not generate items I no longer have use for

rather, bringing me joy in moments of tasting, easily crunched, digested, excreted and flushed away

making space for the new every day.

Author’s note: This is sort of a comical belief I’m told but the problem of generating items from hobbies that I no longer wanted to keep was something I genuinely worried about. For the first few years after starting graduate school, I knew I might have to move around often, so hobbies that involved making things can become clutter that makes it pricier and a more lengthy process to move.

I also let go of perfection as I no longer had to make sure whatever I created for fun had to be “good enough” to gift to a friend, donate or sell online. There were times when I knit something and it was ugly as heck and I felt so guilty throwing it out, yet just as disappointed keeping it around.

In cooking, even if it’s bad, I can compost it. Whether I eat it or not, there is an organic system of treating the leftovers. And I think that’s why I gravitated towards cooking first in my mid-20s “what is the meaning of life via hobbies” self-discovery.

Wednesday: How many of the people I fantasize about already exist in some form in my present reality?

Fantasy

I imagined a life surrounded by loving friends curious about the world, ready to yearn for more, be creative, explore.

I acknowledge that the people closest to me (physically) are anything but, that their companionship is what I’m focussing on; and that by definition my most curious friends emotionally most similar to me set off to explore the world, currently scattered across the edges.

I imagined a life loved by family, wishing that had I behaved enough, or believed hard enough, that I would be.

I acknowledge that this never happened as people would promise that parents always unconditionally love their children (which wasn’t true in my case, a case of conditional love — was I simply not good enough? not obedient enough? not quiet enough?); but that unconditional love and support came from other sources. Strength from others’ stories, support from friends afar, but emotionally close.

At times, I lament that what I want is not physically close, but they are present.

And perhaps this is the universe calling out to me to finally leave this place for something better.*

Author’s note: *When it’s safe enough to do so, of course! We’re still in lockdown.

Friday: How many of the ways of being that I fantasize about already exist in some form of my present reality?

Being

Being present, I thought, would be about being still — but it’s not;

I can be jumpy, bouncing Tigger, vibrating energy from head to tail

yet wholly present in all of the sensations within me and of how I am envelopped by my environment.

Being curious, I thought, was about asking questions.

Yet I learned often being curious means actively listening to narratives other than your own

making space for someone else to exist in proximity, walk alongside you.

Being creative, I thought, was about creating something new from scratch every time.

Yet I learned it was more about letting old thoughts marinate gain flavour evolve with the microbiome of existences ready to change the essence of the juices that make up your character.

Being present, curious and creative meant something different when my kindergarten teacher said it than when I say it to myself now in my late twenties;

and I’m looking forward to the way, this may change in the many years to come, as I age into a different era.

Author’s note: Now that I sit down to think about it — I exist in all the ways that I’d like to be. It’s hard, because some of this (all of it) intermittently faces pushback. Sometimes I fold, sometimes I stand ground. Sometimes I change and evolve so that I neither have to fold or stand ground. It’s been a journey of evolving interests and existing, and I think that’s what’s been most valuable in life. To live it, and then to be able to write about it, so that future living becomes easier, more flavourful.

Intentional Tuesdays

What does my intuition say?

Does this align with my values?

Does this align with my purpose?

Am I saying yes out of love or fear?

Would I say yes to this I knew no one would be disappointed?

Intuition says no.

Wisdom tells me that no is a complete answer.

This commitment neither aligns with my values, nor my purpose yet I feel pressured to say yes out of both love and of fear, two sides of the same coin —

from love I want to spend time with you, friend, someone I cherish; from fear, because I love you, I fear placing rejection on you, which can often be unpleasant to receive.

If disappointment was not in this equation, I would have said no already, more audibly, outward, not in my head.

So what will it be?

Will I be authentic and share this? Or will I swallow and consider a life outside of my comfort zone, just to see if this is something that my elastic will learn to stretch and wrap-around, or be the final thing that makes me snap?

Author’s note: I think often see snapshot situations like this and have their own advice of what steps should be taken, edging on in that direction. I think a lot about whether that advice is welcome sometimes, when I become that person sharing it. I know for some, the obvious answer is to say no.

But consider this — this is the only group of friends where I feel seen and who shares my narrative as a first-ish kinda second-generation immigrant. Other spaces I’m in are overwhelmingly white and unfortunately at their most friendly best invalidating about racist encounters. This friend group is the only space where I feel safe genuinely sharing what I think, because I know (unfortunately), they have also been through something like this.

In friendships where everyone places themselves first as culturally normal, I don’t hesitate to set boundaries. In friendships where we have mixed cultures and more community-based support, I am more careful about how I say no, whether those nos impact more heavily, and how I can show up differently. It’s part of being someone who has to switch between cultural norms.

Weekend: How do you come back to yourself?

Leaving home, ready

As the sun rises, in her rays I bask, spending time to sip my morning coffee warming my body; my morning pages warming my soul.

Coming home, ready

As the sun sets, in cotton candy pinks, I settle down to a mindful meal, ready for a nice shower (shower thoughts? you too!) soft stretches and a good night’s sleep.

Author’s note: I love sleep. That is all.

Hi I’m Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她) and I’d like to thank Diana C. for these prompts! M/W/F | T | Weekend

Hop down the rabbit hole? 🐰🕳

^ by Yan Huang