I nodded, too hurt to say how I really felt.
So I smiled, and you smiled—
You understand, right? This isn’t mutual
and I’m just too busy.
(Too busy for your best friend?
Or maybe I wasn’t, but she was to me.)
Sure I do, and now it’s mutual.
You left, but I don’t think you
knew how much it hurt to have that intense trust
tear away from my weary heart.
The door shut and I cried—too hurt to say.
I have always felt separate, somehow.
Yet solitude has never been a source of pain until
I felt the sting of pity in your eyes—
For you watched a kaleidoscope of fireworks
explode in color all around me
while I faded into darkness.
Written in eighth grade, randomly stumbled upon recently:
“I could’ve been someone,” my dad says. “The next Einstein or Newton, I could have made the next Google.” I believe him, and I tell him this.
He grew up in a small, poor town in China, but nevertheless got into the best university in the whole country at the age of 16. For four years of his high school life, he did nothing else but study, study so that he could get into the best university, so that he could get the best-paying job, so that he could have a good rest of his life. His hard work paid off though- he brought his whole family to America. If he had stayed in China, I wouldn’t even be alive, due to the law which restricts having more than one child.
My dad is the life of parties, the one who always is in the center of the spotlight. He’s the motor of the family, the backbone of his workplace. He comes up with the strangest ideas, like bicycling to work, or digging a hole to make a jacuzzi in the sand. When I have questions in math, I know who I should talk to. He’s always there, as sure as the next tick of a clock, as steady as the beat of a butterfly’s wings.
Sometimes I feel bad, like somehow I know that if he didn’t settle down and have a family, if he hadn’t spent so much time and energy into making the family function, then he could have been someone big.
But then I realize that maybe devoting one’s life to something that seems small, like raising a family and watching children grow up, can sometimes be better than being someone big.
apathy is the mask I wear
to shield me from the burning numbness of a heart
from a weight I cannot bear.
I am strong, I say,
but underneath firm lines of shut are
screams unheard by rows of smiles
“Strange about learning; the farther I go the more I see that I never knew even existed. A short while ago I foolishly thought I could learn everything – all the knowledge in the world. Now I hope only to be able to know of its existence, and to understand one grain of it. Is there time?” — Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
I have always been unsure of myself and the world around me. I’m even unsure of my unsureness. I don’t understand how any non-delusional person can truly be confident in anything — we know so little, and everything has some degree of uncertainty.
We should be humbled by the expanse of knowledge we don’t know and will never know, and learn to be content with what we have while wanting more. Our obsession with confidence must end because it is simply a method to look like we know what we’re doing, causing us to equate confidence with truth. Sure, presentation does matter, but content matters just as much.
At the same time, having the right level of confidence is important — too much, and your ego will explode; too little, and it’ll be hard to reach your full potential. But instead of trying to just “be confident,” we should strive for self-acceptance, compassion, and awareness. Confidence is just a byproduct of these qualities.
Skepticism cultivates curiosity, and questioning the status quo is the only way to improve. Confidence is settling. And I don’t ever want to settle.
anxiety wraps me up in a blanket
tells me it’s okay, it’s alright.
until it snakes into my lungs,
a cobra inside me, jaws over my heart —
I can’t breathe, I can’t speak,
the world has turned on its head but thinks
I’m upside down.
True leaders don’t create followers, they create more leaders.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a good leader. I used to think that a good leader was just someone who could complete a task without being excessively cruel or arrogant — someone who was respected through their actions.
This past couple of years, I’ve learned that leading a team through a task is a lot more complicated than doing the task itself. The task must be broken down, each piece delegated to a specific person or group of people, and then integrated together. For larger projects, this process must be repeated until the final task is completed. Most importantly, I learned that leadership is about understanding people.
Leadership isn’t just managing or leading by example, and it’s more than competence in completing tasks. It’s not doing things on your own — the whole point of leadership is to get people inspired and to help them become significant in determining the outcome of the project. It’s having a vision and knowing how to execute it. It’s being both reactive and proactive, and being one or more steps ahead of others in order to guide them in the right direction. It’s listening to and respecting all voices, but having the courage to make the final decision. A good leader is someone who doesn’t lead for the sake of leading, but with the passion for serving the team and cause.
This year, I want to focus on learning how to become the best leader of my ability. I want to lead with more charisma, assertiveness, and awareness. These qualities don’t come naturally, but I know I can do it.