Calling out for Autism Awareness (Part 1)

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Autism was not a disorder that was well researched or studied until the 80s. No one really knows what autism was, let alone the cause. My brother was born in 1966 and he looked no difference from the rest of us. He was cute just like any other child; he had a well developed physical body; but he had something that not everyone has: a smile that melts hearts. He was a happy child, laughing all the time.

Like the rest of us, he went to kinder and played well with other kids. He loved watching television and listening to music. But he didn’t talk. My parents kept waiting day after day; month after month and year after year, taking the words from the doctors. The medical team found It very hard to label my brother with a disorder, the most they came up with was speech delayed.  

Days, months, years passed by, my brother was six or seven years old by then, still no sign of speech. By then he had been out of school for a few years. No one knew what to do. He kept growing and he kept retreating to his own world.  He played by himself, he could spend all day standing at the balcony looking out without a sound.

Still, no one knew what to do……..

 

There are many ways we can educate ourselves about Autism, watch this video about Richard and Jaco:  Richard and Jaco: Life with Autism

 

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My brother never went to any formal schooling. Back then, there were no such thing as inclusive education or special needs schools catered for children with autism. And because he was never properly diagnosed, he was not given any treatments or interventions.

Without proper treatments, his condition worsen as years went by. He could not express himself through words so he got frustrated when he could not get what he wanted. So when he wanted to draw attentions, he would throw things out the window. When he wanted to express his happiness, he would laugh so loud that we couldn’t stop him until he choked on his own saliva. When he was angry, he would bite his hand so hard that he bled. When he was sad, he would stand at the balcony all day long without a sound.

It was only when I studied autism spectrum disorder in university (Master in Special Needs) did I then fully realized the extends of the severity of my brother’s condition.

On the spectrum, autism can range from low functioning to high functioning; those with the least severe problems can learn to communicate effectively, keep jobs and even be able to live independently.  But on the other side of the spectrum are those with severe autism who may continue to struggle with speech, learning, and communication skills into adulthood.

Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a neurological condition with the onset at birth and it is a lifelong developmental condition that affects how they behave and learn as well as interact with the world around them.

Although my brother was at the extreme end of the spectrum but I strongly believe that if he was given treatments or interventions at the time, his condition could had been helped or improved.

 

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My Relationship Spotlight (Part 4)

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Growing up in my mother’s absence

 

Unlike so many children these days, I didn’t get to fly home three or four times a year when I was in boarding school in England. Nor did I have my parents visiting me at exit weekends, parents’ weekends and etc. Indeed, I was lucky to come home once a year which actually only happened the first year, for the remaining years I spent my summers at teachers’ homes, they acting as my guardian.

 

It is therefore fair to say that I lived at home until I was 12. Everything I have learned after I left home, I learned through either watching how others did things, or by asking others how to go about doing it. But most of what and how I learned were from making mistakes, learning by trial and error.

 

One summer, I stayed with one of my school teachers (I don’t remember which one) and her family at their holiday home in the countryside. What I had learned during those three weeks opened my eyes about the importance of respecting other cultures, habits and family values. I was surprised that they don’t brush their teeth until after breakfast and everyone in the family was entitled to a voice of their own, each individual was respected for their opinions and was allowed to be heard no matter how young you are. Around the table, everyone talked and exchanged opinion. We went to a strawberry farm and for the first time, I was taught to bring a jar of water and picked the strawberries off the stems and eat as much as you could without having to pay for them.  We only had to pay for what was taken home.

 

The years in boarding school, coming from Hong Kong and initially knowing very little English, looking very different from the English girls, I struggled and I learned each lesson the hard way.

 

The fact that I was a year older than my peers only made things worse, as I had a very hard time adjusting and blending in. The sense of belonging was not there. I felt I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t belong to anywhere in particular, nor could I identify with anyone. I felt like an alien. I couldn’t pronounce the word, ‘sugar’; I couldn’t bare not taking a shower daily; I didn’t know how to talk about boys like they did. Teasing, bullying, being isolated, were all part of my daily routine. I was alone in every sense of the word.

 

Every Friday, there was a line waiting at the phone booth in our boarding house as that was the only day and time that parents were allowed to call and speak to their daughters. I was never in that line. I had no call to expect.

 

Every day, there would be a gang crowded over the table at the entrance of our boarding house where letters were displayed, letters sent from parents, grandparents or friends, to my housemates. I was never amongst the crowd. I had no letters to expect.

 

Growing up was a lonely journey for me.  It was ironic given that I came from a big family. I learned at that age that if I wanted to survive, I had to learn it myself, I had to fight it myself and I had to live it. Calling home, asking for help, unloading my sorrows; these were not part of the survival skills I practiced because at a young age, I had learned that if those actions did not contribute to the end result, that meant they are not wise choices. The end result I wanted was to be able to survive using my own power… realistically, what could my parents had done for me? Fly over to scold those mean girls, or even withdraw me from the school? When I couldn’t find answers to such questions, I knew those were not the wise actions I should act upon.  I did not want to leave the school, NOT because I loved it so much, but because I wanted to prove to those girls as well as to myself that they couldn’t break me.

 

There is no doubt that my boarding school years were the catharsis for the person I would become as a young adult. During that time, I survived college, lived in both the USA and Hong Kong, and experienced several (ultimately broken) romantic relationships.

 

I made myself believe that I did not need anyone, including my mother and my family. The truth of the matter was I did survive without them, I did continue to walk my lonely journey with pride. It was only years later did I realized surviving it all does not mean it was actually good for me, nor does not mean it had to be like that. I made it so. I made it as though I was a single child without parents.

 

How I wish I had this wisdom then.

How I wish I had dug deeper into the source of my pain then and not now.

How I wish I had not ignored my deep desire of having my mother in my life as a young adult.

 

Does my story resonate with you?  Do you have any how I wish moments?

 

Share with someone who would like to read my story.

 

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International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination

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Last night, we took our 12 year old son to the Geelong Grammar School’s information session. I believe most of the parents were attracted to the school because of the Year 9 Timbertop program whereby all students are required to live a rustic camplike life, requiring basic skills and being close to nature,  on a remote mountain range far away from everything we deem to be civilization, and most importantly including their phones ! It is a unique educational adventure that teaches valuable life skills, self-confidence building, resilience and independence.

 

In the room, there were a handful of alumni (mainly Asian) and they were invited to share their experiences at GGS. One young man, probably in his late 20s, was delighted to share his experience especially the year at Timbertop. He was outgoing, spoke perfect English and had a great sense of humour. He talked favourably about his experience and the education he had received from the school. However, there was one thing he said that he wished the school could had done more for the Asian students, and that was to educate everyone not to use racist language such as calling an Asian, ‘Gook’ (for those who may not know what the origins are of this slur, it comes from the Korean War, where Allied Forces would contemptuously refer to North Korean soldiers as Gooks. Gook is an abbreviation of Hanggook – the Korean language version of the nation of Korea).  

 

His comment brought me right back to my years in boarding school in England in the 70s. I was the only Chinese girl in the school; English was not my first language and it was my first time away from home. The transition from one country to another; one language to another; one culture to another was not easy to say the least. I was simply different so I by default became the target; the centre of attention.  I was told to return to where I came from, I was not welcomed. I was called, ‘Ching Chong’ and I was made fun of because my eyes are different from theirs. These unique and indeed unpleasant experiences have taught me the importance of immersion.

 

Raising our son, Xavier (half Irish, half Chinese) in Hong Kong, making the decision of sending him to a local school instead of an international school, insisting that he could only watch the cartoon channel in the Mandarin language, taking him to the wet market and encouraging him to speak in Cantonese when helping me to buy groceries and not answering his questions if they were not asked in Cantonese; the list goes on. The thought of giving up tempted me like a delicious dessert, especially in the weeks ahead of preparing for school exams, the endless bargainings of how much Chinese he has to do before he can stop and how I laughed when he said, “Can I NOT be a Chinese person today, mom?”.

 

After almost 12 years of integrating his life in Hong Kong, Xavier is now proud to call himself, ‘born and raised’ as a Chinese. He looks proudly to me whether it is a stranger on the bus or the old lady at the newspaper stand who look at him in wonder, “How did your ‘guai zai’ (“foreign boy”) learn how to speak Cantonese? so fluently?” With a big smile and replying in flawless Cantonese, I can tell he knows his hard work has paid off. The glowing pride sparkles in his eyes shine through and warm my heart.

 

While Xavier looks paler and hair lighter than his local peers, he definitely does not feel lesser than them in any way. He does not look at himself as the odd one out. He does not struggle to understand or be understood among his peers. I am purely talking about the language barrier. There are of course other developmental areas such as social skills that are important in terms of the growth of a child. However, if our children can break the language barrier to begin with, it gives them the confidence to build on other areas. The foundation of the building blocks for a well-balanced child comes from the ability to communicate. Communication comes from mastering the language skill. To master a language, what’s better than immersing into the life of the locals?

 

In his spare time, he loves watching the local TVB channel and last year he watched a documentary called, “我們的驕傲”. It talked about the lives of Hong Kong born athletes and the stories behind their successes. Not only was he fascinated with the athletes’ stories but was motivated to write about what he had learned from them and shared with his fellow readers and friends.

 

He is proud of these amazing local athletes. He is inspired by them and more importantly, he relates to them. He feels he is ONE OF THEM, born and raised in Hong Kong. I called that true immersion, don’t you?

 

It is beyond sad to still hear stories of racism in the 21st century. It is beyond comprehension of how on one hand we call ourselves global citizens but on the other hold such rigid perspectives toward one another based on our colour, beliefs and cultures. The tragedy in the Mosque in New Zealand has left me speechless and raised the alarm in my head that if by immersion is not enough, what is?

 

Today is International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, let us all reflect on when was the last time we made a racist comment? And for parents, how are we educating our children to love one another regardless of our colors, language, culture?  I know just by posing these questions is not enough, but it is a start. We all have to start no matter how some of us think it is too late, or it has gone too far down already. And just like the example I gave at the beginning, we have to call it out when people use casual racist terminology. Bullying is one thing but name calling using racist terminology is another.  For if we do not, we implicitly legitimize its usage, and gradually it can lead to its normalization. Taken to extremes, it can on occasion lead to the appalling racist violence we have witnessed too much recently.

 

So our son is taught not only to be proud of his mixed-race heritage, but to respect and place “parity of esteem” to all he encounters. I pray that all parents can adopt the same, on this most important of days.  It is precisely our different color, culture and language that make us unique and that should motivate and inspire us to learn from one another, to embrace our differences as we all know by working as a team, believing that ‘two minds are always better than one’, is the only way we can make this world a better place, a happier place.

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My Relationship Spotlight (Part 3)

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The woman I grew to respect

The woman I craved to become

The woman whose power and confidence I fell in love with ..

 

Is the same woman whom I called ‘Principal’,

Is the same woman whom I looked for approval all my life

Is the same woman whom I called ‘Mother’.

 

This powerful realization only came about through hindsight after all these years.

From the age of 5 to 13, before I went to boarding school in England, what I remembered was:

 

Every morning, as my mother would cook me breakfast we chatted together and she would ask me about one thing that I was most looking forward to doing in school.  With great excitement I would go on and on about how much I loved going to school. My mother and I would walk to the nearby bus stop and she would wave goodbye to me.

 

Every afternoon, my mother would pick me up from school and together we would stop by the nearby tuck shop (which by now have become the ubiquitous 7-11’s) and allowed me to choose a bar of chocolate if I did well in school.

 

Every evening, my mother would cook me dinner and together we would chat and laugh and share what I had done in school.  I rambled on excitedly in telling my mother what some of the girls had done in recess and how I had beat other students in badminton.  My mother would tuck me in to bed and read me a story until I fell asleep.

 

On weekends, my mother and I would go to the beach in Repulse Bay as I love the water.  The breeze and the warm sand slowly crept up from the bottom of my feet to all over my body.  We would lay down looking up the blue sky and we would share our dreams……and fall asleep together.

 

These were memories that I cherished so deeply……

These were memories that I wish I actually had……

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My Relationship Spotlight (Part 2)

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My recollections of my mother is all based on the time before I left home for boarding school and moreover, my perspective of who she is, is also based on my own observations and limited encounters with her over the subsequent years.

 

In my eyes, my mother is in some ways like Margaret Thatcher, the Iron Lady.  

 

My mother was a Principal

 

She was a true entrepreneur from the very beginning.  She and my father set up a kindergarten and all my siblings and I studied there.  In a short span of time, they extended the kindergarten to offer daycare services to working parents. I remember growing up calling my mother “Principal” when I was in the school. The kindergarten had at least 200 students and over 20 teachers.  My mother was not only the principal but also the teacher. She was the authority, everyone including the parents and teachers all looked up to her, especially at the end of the school year graduation where she gave her speech, which was held in City Hall in Central.  She was a natural public speaker and was, what we now call, an influencer. You could felt her presence from a far distance. Her hard work and utmost dedication to the school, parents, students and teachers was well known, admired and respected.

 

I called her an Iron Lady because I have learned only when I became a mother myself that she worked until the day she went into labor and she resumed work the day after she was released from the hospital.  There was no such thing as maternity leave in her dictionary. She did not look at herself any less than her male counterparts. She was a true believer in the idea of never relying on others if you can do it yourself.

 

My mother was a Business Woman

 

After maybe 15 years, my parents closed down the kindergarten and took a venture in the business world.  This must had been in the mid seventies when China started opening up to foreign trade. Among the few business ventures, the one that made the most impact was the opening of a department store in Shenzhen.  I believe my parents were either the first, or at the very least among one of a very few who were given that opportunities to bring in foreign goods into China. Retail business was new to my parents and to China; any foreign investors at the time who wished to do business in China had to partner with a local joint venture, typically the government.  

 

I called her an Iron Lady because she dared to try, she didn’t let doubts get in her way, she refused to bow down to challenges.  Doing business with China was not easy at all, especially during those years because it was a very male dominated world there and also because doing business with China was all about connections, relationships and drinking.  My mother is a woman and she doesn’t drink and she was the only woman in all the meetings and dinners with the business partners. Yes yes, my father was there too….but you know what, despite everything that my mother was not, the only person these business partners would enter any business deal or negotiation was with my mother.  The only time they would agreed to set up any meetings or dinners was if my mother was there too.

 

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Celebrating International Women Day on March 8, 2019: A Letter to Our Children

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To our sons:

Everytime you ask why….

Everytime you wonder who…..

Everytime you question how…..

The answer will always be the same……Thank God for creating women.

 

To our daughters:

No matter what it takes, stay on course

No matter who said what about whom,  stay on course

No matter how long it takes, stay on course

As it is the only way –  staying on course, which will allow you to take your place in this world, beyond self-doubt and peer criticism. Believe in yourself

 

To the parents:

Raise our boys to respect girls

Raise our boys to break stereotypes

Raise our boys to follow their hearts

Raise our boys to be true to their emotions

Raise our daughters to respect themselves

Raise our daughters to believe in themselves

Raise our daughters to dream expansively

Raise our daughters to love themselves

Raise our children to love one another, to support one another, to cherish one another, to treat one another as equals.

 

To my fellow women and mothers:

A husband starts calling his wife, ‘mom’ in front of their children; the mother herself refers herself as “mother of her children” instead of by her first name. Sooner than expected, the name of the woman melts into the daily chores, busy schedules, lack of sleep, endless exam preparations etc.

Maintaining a woman’s self-identity is an uphill struggle,  for a woman has to wear so many hats during her life span: the hat of a daughter, the hat of a wife, the hat of a mother, the hat of a daughter-in-law, the hat of an employee.  Somehow in the midst of all the commotion, a woman cannot keep up with which hat to wear and when to wear which hat………..

I am turning 55 this year and I am a daughter, a wife and a mother of three children (2 adults and 1 preteen).  Like most of us, I wear different hats on different days and different times over the years. But this year I am adding a new hat to my collections; the obvious question is why and which hat this time?  Am I not tired? What is the purpose of it all?

Which hat?  The hat of a parenting and teen coach.  Why?

I love what I have been doing, I believe that being a mother is one of my callings (having my 3rd child at the age of 42 and raising him has been like a second chance given to me) and being a mother is truly a gift from God.  My children shower me with love, they teach me what is humility, they teach me how to be patient and they teach me how to love without fear.

However, I believe this is only the beginning, being a mother is only the beginning of my journey of self-discovery of not only who I am, but furthermore what is the purpose of my life and how to live it with meaning and fulfilment.  

It is never too late to chase after your dream.  

It is never too late to give it your best shot.

It is never too late to give hope and love to others.

On this International Women’s Day, I want to shout out to all the little girls, teen girls, young adult women, young mothers, mature mothers, grandmothers and Godmothers ……. that we do need to continue to hold up half the sky, we can make a difference, the world has a place for us too as long as we stay on course and stay connected with one another.  We need one another as a collective of ONE. We need the world to see us as ONE with unity.

On this International Women’s Day, I want to shout out to all the little boys, teen boys, young adult men, young fathers and businessmen that gender equality, respecting one another, working as a team, collaborating like-minds are the 21st century skills we need to equip ourselves with.

 

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My Relationship Spotlight (Part 1)

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Who am I?

We all think to some degree that we know who we are.

Why am I the way that I am?

We also think to some degree that people around us partly made up who we are.

Relationship is one of the 5 elements in the theory of happiness according to Dr Seligman, founder of Positive Psychology.

Out of the 5 elements (positive emotions, engagement, relationship, meaning and achievement) the one I struggle with the most is relationship and it’s also the one I’m most interested in learning more about.

Relationship with spouse, children, parents, siblings, friends and etc all make up of how we evaluate our level of wellbeing.

The relationship I want to dig deeper this year is the one with myself:

My Relationship with myself.

Yes, it takes courage to be vulnerable and

Yes, it takes a mindset change that imperfection is a gift and not something to be ashamed of.

Each relationship nurtures a strength and a weakness within us.

I love hats.  The different hats I put on depends on what I wear that day; it depends on where and who I am meeting.  It also largely depends on how I feel that day!

Our relationships with others is more or less the same.  Relationship is complex in the sense that not only interacting with one another is a work of art (the skill of communication and active listening as examples!) but maintaining a level of harmony in any relationship is a work in progress that can take a lifetime or two!!!

I am a daughter, a mother, a wife, a friend so just like my collection of hats; I have created a collection of relationships with people around me.  I believe I am the sum or the product of these relationships.

I am my mother’s daughter! And that’s where I shall begin my quest….

 

What I know about my mother:

My mother is the eldest among her nine siblings

She was born in China and studied in Hong Kong

She gave birth to nine children

She was an educator and an entrepreneur

 

What I don’t know about my mother:

What did she study in college?

When did she leave China?

Who was her best friend in school?

What is her favourite color?

 

The mother that I know:

She is as tough as nails

She exemplifies female leadership

She is a natural communicator

She is a multi-tasker

 

Growing up in a large  (and traditional) Chinese family, I was taught to listen but not speak; to obey but not question.  I was taught the Confucian virtue of filial piety, to deeply respect one’s parents.

I was taught not raised, I was told not explained….

“Everyone in yet? “My father who was also the driver, asked as we set off to our regular Sunday dim sum lunch as a family.

Don’t ask me how but somehow all nine of us like lego pieces fitted perfectly in the backseat of my parents’ Mercedes.  

To break the silence, I asked my mom, who sat in the passenger seat, “Where are we having dim sum?” I must had been five or six years old.

I could see her fiery eyes staring right at me from the back of her head.  

“You will know when we get there, not another question from you.” Her tone of voice weighted volumes.

That set the stage for as long as I could remember. Asking meant questioning; questioning meant distrusting and distrusting meant disrespecting.

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Not All Heros Wear Capes

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The world has changed …  well, that is an understatement.  This generation of children are not the same as before, equally true.  Change however is both inevitable as well as good. We grow because we embrace change, we change because we know it brings us into new lights of experiences.

 

Last Friday, my eleven year old son encountered his first fist fight with one of his fellow classmates.  Luckily it was not bloody nor serious enough to draw the school’s attention. It happened during inter-house competition and I imagine the PE teacher was far too experienced than to make a big deal out of a bunch of boys being competitive.  

 

My phone rang.  “Hi mom, I am on my way home now.” a silent pause, “I have something to tell you when I get home.” I knew it, I said to myself.  “Are you okay?” I asked. “Yes I am. Talk to you when I get home.”

 

“I had a fight with one of my classmate today.” he said,  sounding remorseful. “What happened?” I asked. “He said the F word to me so I punched him in his face.” He was not proud of himself, that I could tell.  He went on to describe and explain the whole situation which did not take very long because what he really wanted to tell me was the following:

 

“On the way home, I got an invite to a group chat named, “This has to stop”, it was set up by five of my classmates.” He showed me the content of their conversations.  My son went on to say, his eyes tearing up, “I couldn’t believe they are so nice to me. I called one of them and told him how much I appreciated all their support.”

 

The messages in the group chat were nothing but positive comments such as: we are your friends; we know you are sorry for punching him; my advice for you is next time just walk away if he bullies you again; you can come and hang out with us at lunchtime; don’t be sad.  Even I became teary as I read them. Even I could not believe how kind these boys were being.

 

Sadly, I hear far too many stories about children of this generation:  they are more self-centered than ever; more selfish and less giving. They get sucked into the cyber world to the extent that their realities deviate so much from their real one.  They lack empathy and compassion, not because they are bad, but because they are being masked by the virtual reality where emotions are not needed nor required.

 

These handful of friends are like rare jewels, not only did they break the norm but they brave themselves to depart from their own comfort zones by being there for a troubled friend, by being kind, by being supportive.  We can laugh but the current reality is in fact like this: kindness is not the new norm; showing your care is not a cool thing; being empathetic to fellow friends is a risk to self-gain.

 

So I call these boys heroes, for there are many kinds of heros, and not all heros wear a cape that our children know from the big screen.  They are the true heroes that don’t need a cape, instead they are willing to take a risk to protect and support a friend and not expect to be praised nor recognized.  They will be our leaders in the future because they breakfree from the norm, they embrace change. They have made a change for the better, no matter how small that change is.  

 

It is heartwarming to know that while change is inevitable, change is good…but sometimes good to know also that something never changes:  the need and occasional availability of a kind heart.

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Ambivalence: Torn in Two – Part 1

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There is no doubt that the birth of a child is one of the most traumatic experiences for women, both physically and emotionally. However, for most women, we could barely recount the whole ordeal in the operating room or the delivery room as soon as the midwife had laid our first gorgeous pink newborn bundle of joy onto our chest. The joy, the love and the tears took over and erased every bit of our unwanted and unprepared pain.

 

While that is true that once we have shifted our focus from the physical pain to the emotional overjoy of embracing this warm body against ours, in our head we believe everything is going to be a smooth ride, how could it NOT be? What else could be more dramatic and unexpected? What could possibly come in between our newborn and us?

 

I have come across an article sometimes ago where I had learned about Rozsika Parker, a British psychotherapist who was the author of the book, “Torn in Two: The Experience of Maternal Ambivalence”.  It is about the pull and push of wanting a child close, and also craving space (physically and emotionally), all of which is really the normal wave of motherhood.

 

From her book, I had learned the word ambivalence in the context of motherhood.  Ambivalence is a feeling that self-generates from the roles and relationships a person is most invested in, because there is always a juggling act between giving and taking. Rozsika realized that motherhood is no exception. She believes that is part of why people have a hard time dealing with ambivalence:  it’s uncomfortable and disconcerting to feel two opposing things at the same time. On the one hand, we don’t want to lose sight of every little step that our baby makes but on the other hand, the struggle to find time for ourselves or even the need to be alone, away from everyone, yes even from our children does not seem to be an guilt-free option for mothers.

 

As a mother for 20-something years, I agree that most of the time, the experience of motherhood is not good or bad, it’s both good and bad. It’s important for us to learn how to tolerate, and even get comfortable with the discomfort of ambivalence.  It is of course easier said than done. I struggle everyday still after all these years to find that balance between my now adult children and myself.  The craving for them to come home contradicts sometimes with the luxury of having my own time, away from it all.

 

Do you face this ‘silent war’ like I do too?  Share your thoughts.

 

I will continue to write about this topic of ambivalence in motherhood as it is a feeling that we should not deny or be afraid to face it.  Motherhood is a lifelong journey.

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「溫故而知新,可以為師矣。」

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「溫故而知新,可以為師矣。」

 

孔子曾經說過:「三思而後行」我一直都對那句話有深深的疑問,直到那次,我終於明白到它的意思。我因心急和衝動,一時失去理智,沒有把事情想清楚再作決定,結果就是我自作自受……

記得那次,我和班中一羣男生,為了一些無聊的小事,我們討論了整個小息,不但得不到結論,反而令大家心裏存着芥蒂。我們都帶着這種不安的心情回家去。雖然我知道,只要我們大家讓一讓,忍一忍,這件事就不會變成一件大事,但我卻做不到。

第二天,我們又因為同一件傻事爭吵起來,大家吵得比昨天還要猛。情況變得更壞。終於我們都忍不住了,以暴力解決問題。我當時控制不住,失去了理性,沒有想到後果的嚴重性。我們你打我,我打他,像羣兇猛的野獸惡鬥。最後我們兩敗俱傷。結果大家都被老師處罰。

如果我們當初三思而後行,就不會做出這些傻事,招致這慘不忍睹的結果。這次的教訓,讓我終於明白到孔子教導的道理:遇到難關,必須三思而後行,多觀察丶多分析丶多思考後果,就可以大事變小事,小事化無了。

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