what i want

i am consistently asked what it is that i want. the simple answer is that i want to be happy and to have the people around me happy too. the complexity comes when in that collection, either with me or among the others around me, it’s clear that we want different things. people say that relationships require compromise, but what if that compromise requires changes which stand in the way of deeply held beliefs, expectations of others you care about or the life plan you are working against.

someone i care about just described to me the wheel of life, the idea is that life goes though cycle, changing from happiness, to pain, and back to happiness as life rolls around as a wheel. this cycle made me smile, and point out that i saw life more like the ying and yang concept of all good things containing a black spot of trouble and all bad things containing a light spot of hope. growing up thirty years ago in the US, this is what i thought asians were all about, zen buddhists who saw the world as a mixed bag of complexity which needed to be accepted and understood as such.

i now see that asians are just as much of a mixed bag as the rest of the world. there are devotedly religious people who feel they have been given all the answers and who feel badly if they are not strong enough to simply accept the words of their prophets. there are people who profess to be a follower of some doctrine, but have no desire to truly make it part of there lives and there are free thinking atheists who simply feel the world is a place of people, with little or no oversight and should be taken as such, intellect over faith is their stance. this is the same the world over; the proportions are just different as you move from place to place.

as i sit in a restaurant and see couples not talking to each other, bored with each other due to the time that has passed since those early days of hope and happiness that brought them together, or possibly holding a grudge from real or perceived slights which have thrown an emotional wall up between them. sometimes, i look over and smile at them, the woman is the normally the one who notices, almost always she will smile back. the shared smile is one of, “i know it is really sad, but what can you do.”

rather than what i want, i can clearly tell you what i do not want. i do not want to find myself in a relationship built on complacency. i do not want a person i love angry with me. i do not want to disappoint the person i am committed to, and have them feel that i was a mistake or that they could find happiness with someone else more than they can with me. i do not want to ever take someone i love for granted, i don’t want to ignore them in public or in private, and i don’t want to ever agree to disagree. all of these things are what people do when they do not care enough to fight for the person they are sitting next to.

i want to be that person’s complete partner in everything we do; equals who work together and compliment each other. i want to be their warrior when the time for battle comes or their consigliore when they plan to fight the battle directly but need the advice that helps them understand their own strengths so they can fight the most efficiently. i want to be the shoulder they cry on and the first person they run to when something wonderful happens in their life.

so here is the hard part, i thought i had this once. it has taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact that if i did have this, it has slipped away and will never return. how and why this happened comes down to lack of understanding and communication. days and events piled up, sadly i didn’t see it happening and long after still believed it could be fixed. this is central to never giving up, that you keep trying even when the times have become difficult. how can you live happily ever after if you are not willing to work though the days of storminess and come out the other side into the warm sunlight of the gentle days that follow?

i have simplified the answer of what i want in the past to say, “i want to wake up every day holding the hand of the person i love. i want to hold that hand and say thank you for a wonderful life when one of us dies.” that is what i want, and to get there i need to find the person who will help me see this through. i need a person who feels the same way, and who is willing to let go of the baggage of life or prior expectations to see that i am the person they also want to be with. until i find this person, and we can feel that click of recognition that we work and want to always work, i will have to wait and hope. working at the relationship, for yourself and each other, really is the key. but more important is finding the person who you know within yourself, and you have the faith within them, that together you will never stop working.

people change over time, events in life happen and different people react differently. we are not committing to the person we know today, we are committing to the person who they will become years from now, and the person that new person will become years after that. my daughter said with an accusing tone, “you don’t have a type, you don’t care what someone looks like”. i explained that is true. of course that is not completely true, i am shallow enough to want someone who i see as beautiful, but that beauty comes in many ways.

i have made a list of features i am looking for in a person, a few are physical. these are the elements i feel are important to finding a person who is right for me:

• smart, has a passion for learning
  
• radiance, a smile and personality that warms me
  
• humor, able to laugh and enjoy silliness together
  
• interested in the world larger than her immediate surroundings
  
• trusting, enough to try new things
  
• communicates, speak and listens with grace
  
• openness, willing to share stories about herself and her life
  
• confident, dresses and acts based on her inner strengths
  
• feminine feminist, knows women are equals but likes doors opened for her
  
• strong enough to stand up for her rights
  
• soft enough to ask for help when needed
  
• athletic, enough to be active together for life
  
• family oriented
  
• truthful, even when its hard to be
  
• caring, focused on those around her
  
• beautiful, as much inside as out
  
• warm, desires emotional ties
  
• motivated, works to succeed
  

when i find this person and they see that i am a fit for the things they need. when we feel that “click”, when we realize that we are friends and want to become best friends. when we know that we can make each other happy, not just today but for our entire lives. when we know that we will not come to a point that one day one of us hopes the other were dead. when we are brave enough to admit how good we are and strong enough to reach out to each other, that is when we will know we have found what we want and will never want to let go.

i have heard that there are 1,000 people who are a complete match for us; every person has that many soul-mates out there. the same source said there are 10,000 people who may not be soul-mates, but they can make us happy if we work together. if this holds the odds are 3,000,000 to one that the person you saw today for the first time is your soul-mate. it also means that in a city the size of kl there is roughly one people who are your soul-mate, and 27 who are a good enough match to make you happy. i am not sure if the numbers took other considerations into account, if you needed to back off all the people who are already married, committed or would never consider you based on some preconception of age, race or religion, given that 50% of adults are married, and 30% are racist to one degree or another and may not fall into your race, i would estimate this leaves 35% of the available pool, or 4 people who are almost right for you and only a fraction of a person who is your soul mate. when i first heard the stats, it was projected as a positive thing, its hard when you have math skills and do analysis isn’t it.

either way, given these numbers you may need to consider married people and racists, both scary. the two thoughts that have been rolling around in my head are churchill saying, “there is nothing to fear but fear itself” and my high school football couch saying, “winners never quit”. i have been ignoring the other quote from my other couch who told me “just fall down, maybe someone will trip over you”.

wait, maybe that one has merit too. maybe if i do fall down someone will trip over me, god knows staying on my feet and continuing to move has had limited success.

cultural differences

it’s not hard for me to see that people in different parts of the world have different views on things. as we move around there are clearly cultural differences that are everywhere. some things are much more forward than others, some are harder to see until you take the time and sit back and relax, until you get beyond the obvious and move to the more personal.

i am an amercian, i live in asia, i travel in europe and try to be flexible and understanding. i believe that fundamentally, we are all the same. we are people and most people just want to be happy. but we do put different value on different things. i am shocked at how polite people continue to be to their parents as they age here in asia. i know asians in their 20s and 30s who put so much weight in what their parents would think of something they are simply unable to function without the need for hidden lives and deception. it was my father who taught me that i needed to live my own life, and i had to say “screw them” if other people did not understand. it was also my father who taught us we could tell him anything and he would understand and love us.

i was just talking to someone from the office who told me that amercian kids are spoiled and that amercian parents have no capacity to say no to their children. i am almost positive that my children and their father is the only american family they have ever really witnessed, so i have to believe that we were core to this belief. if not, if they formed it by talking to friends and watching media, its pretty clear my family didn’t do anything to change the opinion.

while in europe a few months ago, we were eating with our family friends there. as the days went by, they were clearly questioning my giving the kids the ability to choose their own foods. american kids tend to go through a late adolescent stage where food is greatly simplified to a few staple items. europeans and asians do not seem to allow this; they have their children eat complete and balanced meals, considering it a life skill. my son’s desire to focus on carbohydrates and to avoid dishes where the bread is too toasted, or the sauce has “green things” in it, was openly questioned. i went though much the same phase, and now i enjoy foods from all over the world, my sister who would only eat ketchup and frozen lasagna successfully lived in japan and inda. i am not going to worry about this stage, but it caused great concern with non-americans.

europeans allow their children to have a glass of wine with dinner, most americans find this to be a strange and dangerous practice. i, of course, go along with the europeans on this. there were pictures of our trip where my 7 year old was tipping a glass of dark beer with a big smile on his face. i am sure this is a picture that is questioned both in the US and asia. but this picture comes with a back story that although my children have seen me have alcohol with meals their entire lives, they have never once seen me even marginally drunk. this may be because i have only been really drunk once in the past 15 years. allowing them to drink at dinner is my way of teaching them to drink with care and respect, this is something we have talked about many times. they always say, “i know dad” with a look that tells me this is understood, and i don’t need to worry about them.

europeans also strike their children in public. i grew up with parents who would slap a child, regardless of who was around, if they felt the child needed it. more than that, just like europeans today, friends and extended family were also welcome to deliver the punishment if they felt it was required. i think this is part of the “it takes a village” concept in child care. american children are taught today that if anyone hurts them with physical force, they have to report it so a criminal investigation can be started. i was shocked as i watched a child i truly love slapped for no reason at all. my children have never felt a slap in anger, although i have thought about it at times. is this right or is it being too lenient? our children know they are loved, and are comfortable that they can tell us anything without us getting angry; i think this is related.

europeans have for many years been known for their openness with sex between adults. americans have become much more liberated. growing up irish catholic was not a great road to liberation, the irish catholics are known for their conservative mindsets. luckily my parents were very open and able to talk about nearly anything. they were ahead of their time in many respects. i have carried that, and moved it forward in my relationship with the kids.

the explicit conversation my daughter and i had on an airplane recently, where we talked about her current situation and status, and i shared my views on her need to enjoy life in a safe and stable way, may have raised eyebrows with the people around us. i am sure it would be shocking for the adult asians i have met who are completely uncomfortable with even admitting that they have needs or desires in this regard, and would never talk about them with their parents even into their adult lives. this can be contrasted with the conversation of the two aunties in europe a few months ago who openly discussed their sexual adventures, and admitted they wanted more before it was to late. they talked with a freedom and disregard for any of the people at tables around us. liberation is something that is learned.

american children as a whole are open, honest, demanding and tend to be more adult, much faster than kids in other parts of the world. i am told regularly that i need to find a woman to take care of me. i have no need for that, my nana told me when i was 7 that i should never need a woman for that. i am looking for a partner, not a mother. my mother stopped taking care of me when i was 8, she was to busy and she told me i was capable of taking care of myself. i watch the indian men who have mothers still pressing their clothes before work, who look for a wife to pick up these duties and provide others. how good can it really be when you are sleeping with your mother or your maid?

cultural differences do exist, they are not the color of our skin, they are not the accents we have, they are not the foods we eat, and they are the deep grained thoughts we carry. they are the actions we do without thinking about them; they are the expectations we have of ourselves and others. americans expect people to talk to us, they expect honesty and direct communication, they expect even our friends to compete with us, and they expect to be judged not by skin, ethnicity or religion but by merit. most of all they expect to always be winners, because we are willing to teach out kids to have a mind of their own and to live their own lives. we expect our children, our families and our co-workers to tell us when they disagree with us, but to understand we are trying to be the best we can and we are trying to be happy.

traveling the world is fun, if you are open and watch you can learn many things about the world and about yourself. the times this comes most clearly is when you realize the people around you, the people you have come to care about, to love, are different than you are and that deep inside you it doesn’t matter. if it does, then you are not really friends, you don’t really care about them, and it isn’t really love that you feel.

dreams of home

i made a quick trip the US last week. the purpose of the trip was to return my kids to their mother. i was bringing them home, i was taking them to the place in the world they feel most comfortable, most welcome, most at ease. they had been with me for 8 weeks, first traveling in europe and then here in KL. this had been my favorite time of the year, it’s when i get to enjoy the things miss the most. it’s when i get to change my life back to one of parenting a family, from one of managing a company. it’s a time, a role and a place that i feel completely at home with.

arriving in the US was a collection of the normal processes of a returning trip, deplaning, passport control american style, baggage claim and the car ride home. the american “cell phone” i have which is normally an elegant but useless piece of junk here in asia, magically came alive and let me know that people were tying to contact me while i was away. mostly head hunters who had no idea i was half way around the world, people i have never met who follow a basic script meant to make me feel they are a long lost friend, trying to reconnect so they can help me find new happiness at work.

once we were at the kid’s house, there was an awkward moment where i was unsure if i should walk into the house or not. this is no longer my house, i am at best a guest and i am careful to remember that and act accordingly. the kids quickly slipped away, clearly happy to be back home after being so long removed. the dog was the most visibly happy to see me, mieka the golden retriever, jumped, ran, tugged and nipped her way into my heart. this is strange given mieka is an addition to the family that was made after i had moved away. we have met a few times, and i wondered if the happiness to see me was genuine, or if she was simply this happy to see everyone.

i said i was leaving; i needed a shower and wanted to go shopping. i was invited to stay for a hamburger from the grill. a real hamburger, one with the taste i remembered sounded wonderful. but, i had looked outside while playing with the dog; the grill was there on the side of the yard as i remembered leaving it a few years ago. the same grill we had cooked uncountable dinners on, the grill i had stood in the rain, holding an umbrella and flashlight so i could see the meats i was cooking for the family. and a few feet away was another grill, standing in the center of the space, claiming its place. i had remembered seeing this grill years before, on the porch of a friend. i remembered the smoke blowing in my face as the owner of the grill stood and passed me burgers and compliments, both of which tasted a bit off at the time. unsure of which grill would be used to cook, i decided to leave and skip the burger i missed so much.

i met friends, or people i worked with, but who were strangely unable to talk to me, unable to open up and share thoughts or stories. i offered to take them to dinner, a clam shack on the beach i had grown up on. we drove down as the sun was beginning to set, we walked the beach, took a few photos and smiled. the beach was much as i remembered it. i shared that this was the place i thought i would spend my entire life. i remember thinking as a late teen that i would build a life that kept me close to these waters, that would allow me to surf these waves, that would let me watch these sunsets. these were the things that i had loved the most growing up, within sight were the rocks i used to sit on when i needed to think, the first place i had written down thoughts, thoughts now lost in a book in the basement of the house i had just dropped my kids at. it was also within sight of the place i want my ashes scattered when i am gone from this world. i have pointed the place out to everyone i care about in my life, and i hope one of them remembers that this was my wish. it is the final place i want to call home, i am sure i will be happy there, i am just in no rush to move in.

we enjoyed a meal of clam chowder, fried clams and lobster rolls, a meal which brings me back to childhood, to vacations gone by and to times of happiness which are just memories now. one of the friends, the one who has the most trouble living within the culture of the US, called the meal “pure heaven”. i smiled, heaven is a place of happiness and comfort. i think this is why i thought of this place and this meal when i needed to make a suggestion, even if it was a drive that was normally to far for a simple meal.

we left dinner and after a drive around town, showing sites which were mostly dark shadows, hidden from clear view by the late evening. we started the long drive home, a quiet drive with a deep and pointed conversation of two close friends, debating points which make others uncomfortable. the drive then turned to a quiet one, where little conversation was shared and finally to a solo drive where the struggle was to stay awake and not lose myself in the jetlag driven demand for sleep.

i got to my condo, pulled into my parking spot and remembered the neighbors i had said hello to earlier in the day. the wife, who i had once borrowed a cork screw from, had smiled at me and said she, was “happy to finally meet me”. she admitted she thought i might not actually exist, she had heard that i lived half way around the world and wasn’t sure if the stories were true. i smiled at her and told her they were, being careful not to correct her that we had never met. she said, “well it must feel good to be home”.

i thought of this as i went into the condo, went to my room and found my suitcase open on the floor. there was the bed i had bought so many years ago, with the intent to sleep in it every night. i was now climbing into it for about the 17th time this year. the alarm clock was blinking the wrong time, a victim of a power outage some unknown time in the past 4 months. my bed had been unmade, my pillows thrown to one side as i was readying to leave the last time. i climbed into bed and pulled the pillows around me. i was in the quiet house i barely knew, i would be leaving in a few days. i drifted off to sleep, feeling the crushing pressure of fatigue take me into dreams. i hoped to dream of being home; i wanted to know how the dream would look.