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“Will you marry me?”

In my living room, John asked me the question, without ring, and actually without any romantic hint. I was surprised, not by the question itself since I had seen it coming, but rather by the format.

Startled, I asked “why shall I marry you?”

“I promise I will love you, and stand by you.”

“Ok… but where is the ring and everything?” My answer was matched in its lack of romance, reflected more of my puzzled and curious mind.

“I thought I would just take my mother’s diamond, since she had a few…”

“Your mother’s!?” I was upset.

“I am just kidding, we will go shop for a ring next weekend.” John quickly turned.

The weekend came. Without knowing which store to go, we headed for the “Robinson’s Brothers,” the one had a big diamond hanging over a big store in Glendale, the one we had passed by that we couldn’t miss, the one that advertised on the radio. In a big store of Robin’s Brothers, there are rings, and there are rings. Diamond rings, various rings, cuts, and prices. They were big diamonds from thousands to hundreds, all in good sizes, fit for a sizable engagement. We browsed and browsed.

A young man in nice suits, obviously a sales person, came: “Can I help you?”

“We are looking for a ring.”

“Do you have a budget?” John was shocked by the question, and I really did not want to suggest. After all, he was buying an engagement ring for me not the other way around.

However, the air was tight and pressured, so I thought of a number “up to a thousand.”

“Now here is something I need to tell you. There are four Cs in diamond, Carat, Cut, Color, and

The sales person happily ushered us around, showing this and that, one of which John approved. He kept shaking his head, paused, and turned to me.

“There seems to be another diamond store, I remembered, in the mall.” I suggested, not knowing its name.

“Ok, let’s go.”

John thanked the sales person, and we left the “Robin’s Brothers.” We searched up and down the mall and came into this store called “Zales.”

A woman in her fifties greeted us: “looking for a ring?”

We nodded.

“What’s your budget?”

This time, John was quickly answering “about a thousand.”

She quickly pulled out a box and presented us “Now, here is something beautiful.”

A diamond ring in a round cut, beautifully glitters upon the light above. “Why…” John muttered.

“It is internal flawless.” The sales lady introduced, looking at both of us, smiling, her wrinkles looking friendly.

John looked at the ring, carefully. “I would buy it,” He decided. When the sales lady was sliding his card, John couldn’t help saying “Ah…” “I have never spent that much money…” He was whispering to himself.

“Here…” he put the ring on my finger, looking at it satisfactorily.

I finally broke down, tears coming down my cheek.

Flawless…is it really? In my lover’s heart, I am treasurable, as there is no flaw. What a great love it is. A flawless diamond.

There are only a few days to go for our spring break, and would mark my first trip to Las Vegas. We will be staying at the Wynn in Vegas, the five star hotel that boosts in luxurious guest rooms, fine dining and beautiful swimming pool and golf courses. We will also explore the Grand Canyon for the first time during our visit there. This would be great, and the hotel also gives us a free night, complimentary two water show tickets, and a $50 food credit for our room! I am so looking forward to the famous fountain show everyone has been raving about, and the grand buffet of Wynn. As to gambling, I tell Heidi that “we do not gamble.” Is it really easy? The gambling stations are all around at the ground level of the hotel. People are going non-stop on the games. Seductions, everyone.

“We do not gamble,” my dad told me one time. “It was entertainment” I argued. “We do not gamble,” my dad repeated. My dad transformed from a “cool” dad to a “old and stubborn” dad all of the sudden. I joked about it but he did not back off. Until one day, one of our family friends came and said “Your dad is right. One of our family members squardered all his money because of the gambling. From then on, we do not gamble.” Until then I realized my fathers unsaid intent behind this strict rule.

In this big wild world, seductions around, are they more than just a gambling?

One night after the screening of the documentary about Martin Luther King, I boarded on the subway. It was 10:00PM already, traveling alone as a female passenger did not add feel of security. I was tired, exhausted and was feeling asleep. While I was transfering to a different train, a black male told me that I boarded on a wrong side. A black male, wearing somewhat shabby clothes, can I trust him? I couldn’t, not in this dark night. I asked people in charge of the train, and was confirmed, that indeed I boarded on a wrong side. Just about the time I wanted to get off, I was somehow confused, which station shall I get off? The same black male stood before the door, ready to get off. Ah…yes, memorial park, I needed to get off at this station. He walked away, and all of the sudden I realized He is an angel in color who kept me safe all along the way. Why an angel in color? Why not an angel of my same race, or a white angel like all the pictures painted? But an angel in color. It is easy to weep against a documentary about Martin Luther King, but why it is difficult to rid my bias toward a race and perceptions? Like the song in the South Pacific, we grow up with it and we cannot rid it easily. But God send me an angel in color, reminding me of his boundless love.

A Sunday morning when we were driving to the church, my daughter burst into this laughter. I turned to her to see what was going on. She was swaying back and forth on her child seat, pointing to my knees, couldn’t help but laugh hysterically.

“Heidi, what’s so funny?” I asked out of curiosity.

“I see…I see…” she was out of breath, “an elephant dancing on your knee…he is lifting his legs…that is so funny…Aha…aha…ahaaaa…”

An elephant dancing on my knee? I simply cannot wrap my mind around it nor can I enjoy the very moment.

I was amazed by the wonder she has discovered. I wish I could be a five year old! Later, I found three elements that can give me a glimpse to her path of discovery.

First element, I found, is,

“An elephant CAN dance on a knee” a.k.a. It is all possible.

My daughter said an elephant was dancing on my knee. It just happened, so naturally.

How is it even possible for an elephant to dance on a knee? As an adult, I would never agree, since the law of gravity tells me my knees will certainly be crushed at the weight of an elephant! My mind stays within the limits I have given, the presumptions we have grown up with.

But what if, we are living in a different planet where laws of gravity no longer apply? What if an animated elephant is dancing on top of my knee? Why all of sudden it becomes possible?

If Edison had considered oil lamps were good enough for lighting; if Bell had satisfied with telegrams as means of communication; if Wright brothers had considered “flying problem” unsolvable; then there would be no light bulbs, no telephones, and no airplanes.

Henry Ford wrote while he was working on steam engines, everyone was so convinced that the gas engine would never amount to anything. However, he was convinced that the new technology could make a difference. Now we all know what comes out as the result of that.

Free your presumptions and challenge your status quo may simply liberate you, steer you into a new direction, and to reveal you a new field, a field of possibilities.

Now I would like to introduce you the second element of the story…

“I can SEE the elephant every move.” a.k.a. Visualize and Pursue

My daughter was pointing to my knees and said the elephant was lifting his legs. Her eyes were vivid as if she could just see it, touch it and pursue it. There seemed to be dialogues going on and all the fantasies could come true in this magic world she was seeing.

A lot of entrepreneurs also have this common trait that they can visualize what they are creating at that moment, be a venture, a concept or an invention. There are failures but a vision helps them get up and get going. If persistent pursuit is a long standing oil lamp, then visualization is a constant flame.

There is a song from South Pacific it says “you need to have a dream…otherwise how can your dream come true?” If you cannot even dream, how will you pursue what you are dreaming about?

How many trials did Edison exercise before he had a workable light bulb? How many experiments did Bell do before he has a prototype telephone? How many flights did Wright brothers take before they have a working mechanic for a plane?

And how many doubts Henry Ford had before he had Model T?

As Martin Luther King had a speech “I have a dream” forty seven years ago in 1963, it took forty five years to bring out his dream. In 2008, the United States elected our first African-American president, a symbolic step on the equality of the men regardless of color. Dr. King would not be happier.

It CAN happen, I can SEE it happening, and there is an overlaying third dimension to the story…

“It Is FUN to watch an elephant dancing on my knee!” a.k.a. The Fun Factor

My daughter was laughing out loud, giggling without stop “…it is so funny…” Her eyes were kindled and her face lifted with joy. She was having the fun of her life.

When I searched for the old pictures of Edison, Bell, Wright Brothers, and Henry Ford, I found this curiosity running common in their eyes with a notice of joy. If you make a side by side comparison with pictures of Adolph Hitler, the difference is obvious. Hitler’s eyes are full of hatred with a hint of depression. His eyes make my stomach crutch and I would avoid even a glance. Hitler might have started well but ended bad. Fun has left him. He may have invented a few things in his military practice but who would remember? His name is forever linked with mass destruction and his percecution of the Jews.

True joy is somehow related to the goodness of our hearts. It not only makes our work enjoyable but also makes our work beneficial to others. It is a magical ingredient that a Mickey Mouse will play with.

Add some Pixie Dust!

Maybe next time, you can see not only an elephant dancing on your knee, but also a dinosaur sitting on your head! Rediscover the wonder, the wonder we have lost, the wonder we will be able to regain.

My neighbor cut her tree
It is suppose to be her tree
So she can do anything with it
But with the sound and shake
Trunks are coming down
Hard and heavy
A tree of fifty years?
Or is it longer?
Up roll the curtains
Out of the windows
Diameter of the tree trunks
As big as six feet wide
Pine needles
Scattering
The tree
Sighing, screaming, and crying
All at the same time
Sadness is eating me
Why I chatted so happily
When the neighbor told me she was going to cut the tree
I should have stopped her
Or is there any use
She said the tree blocked all the power lines
And she did not want to see it go either
She has an option to keep the trunks
But she chose to remove the tree
Shall I suggest differently
Whether she would listen
One big sound
Compresses
My heart
One shaking of the ground
The life
Lost
“It is easy!”
The machine laughs, grinding the trunks down
Minutes
Swallow
Years
Years of growing, to be
A tree of big canopy
A canopy, hides the bird
A canopy, over three families
In the backyard
A slice of sky that has not seen
Is open
Gone is the canopy of the pine
Forever
The peace between men and creatures
Is that a bridge
We can never maintain
But broken?

I haven’t been writing for a while that I almost forgot how to write. Now it is 1:20AM in the morning, that I just cannot sleep. I have been struggling with this writer’s life that puts me in isolation of the men/women. This morning my daughter had a play date with one of her best friends at Huntington Library. The mother happens to be another freelancer who taught me a few things on how to build a social life regardless. I almost wanted to cry since it is so encouraging that I felt a grim of hope that I may have been just adjusting and haven’t got a grip of it. I felt envious about her taking the time explaining to her daughter about flowers while I couldn’t quite enjoy the moment but only let my thoughts flow into another region. When we came back from the lunch, we were so exhausted. I got into my computer and my daughter got into her TV program. Phone calls one after another and I just let the time float and it burnt almost three hours of TV time for my daughter. I felt totally trapped into this dark hole that I couldn’t get myself out and felt profusely guilty of not being a good mother for my daughter.

Let go, God whispers, let go. There is nothing I couldn’t take care of. Come rest in me, my dear daughter. Come that my wings will comfort you. Your daughter will understand and there is tomorrow. Go to sleep and I will be with you. My eyes are in tears, is that you God? Speaking to me in these little voices? Yes, it is me, my precious daughter, may you sleep like an angel and wake up with energy and a discipline that carries you to an uplifting day. Thank you, God.

On Monday, I was commuting to Hollywood to attend a script writing class through Los Angeles Metro. When I came back, a couple in the metro station caught my attention. They were in their 60s, with hair loosely arranged, they both wore brownish coats. In between their eyes and face, I grasped their expression, subtle but unique to artists. The woman was sobbing and was muttering in words; the man was holding her closely muttering in a different set of words, comforting, and loving. “What shall we do, Henry, I cannot live like this…I don’t know what to do…” “Honey, please don’t cry, please … don’t … we will be alright… we will” “When…I don’t know when…Henry…” “Soon…please don’t be sad…it will get better…” I was looking at them as if I could hear their dialogue. How many years they have been together? How many storms did they go through together? When would they reach the end, and would they reach the end together?

“Qu…” The train stopped and I left them behind…

Curtains up. The setting of CATS was every so pretty in the Pentage’s Theatre. It was Sunday afternoon, I was sitting and waiting for the show to open! Walked this way was a couple, a man in his fifties towering over 6’3″, leading a petite woman in her fifties in her pretty white sweater, a sweater with beautiful crotches. The man was carefully holding her hand, so careful that he was afraid that she would bump into anything. The woman’s closed eyelids struggle to open — she is blind. They sat down right in front of me, and the man started to read the program for the woman. Lights, flash, smoke, with whispering from her husband, I wondered how much could she see? She was occasionally leaning forward as if she could see; she would sometimes laid back as if she intensely enjoyed. Little details audience made laugh about there was her husband whispering, not leaving his wife behind, gentle and enduring.

Curtains closed…

The husband walked his wife out, little by little, carefully holding her in his arms. How long have they been together? A husband who doesn’t mind a blind wife? When did she become blind? Can she still see, at least for some of the lighting? Or has she seen through her husband eyes?

Gentle frames of life bring simple pleasures, but a luxury to watch, “love actually.”

A recipe from my friend Izumi Bloom.

1/2 cup room temp butter (unsalted)
1/2 cup golden brown sugar
6 TBL granulated sugar
1 Large egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
3/4 cup of each, dark, white, milk chocolate ships
1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350 F
In large bowl, combine butter, brown sugar and sugar, mix. (medium speed)
Add egg, vanilla, well blended. (low speed)
Add dry ingredients, mix. (low speed)
Drop onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper.
Bake for 10-13 minutes.
Cool on wire rack

Every Tuesday I will receive a bunch of “trash” mail, full of advertising I don’t want. Normally I receive them and dump them in the trash right away, hence the “trash” mail name.

This Tuesday, however, my eyes stop at at a ad says “Have you seen him”? It is a search ad, a picture of a teenager having very floppy and weird folding ears, and next to it is a picture of a computer edited twenty years’ progressed look, having the same floppy and weird folding ears. I guess it’s his ears catching my attention rather than the search itself. However, it is interesting enough for me to read the complete ad that encourages me to post the ads anywhere so other people can help find the same person.

Is that teenager boy escaped from his family from a heated argument, or did he get involve in drugs that he never wanted to go back home? Other faces of similar ads also surface up. A girl of five years old, did she get lost in the supermarket while his parents were busy shopping? Or did someone abduct the girl out of a school when parents lost in vain finding her? A young man of thirty years, did he just walk out of a marriage leaving his wife and children in despair? Or was he in an airplane crash but his body was never be found? An old woman of seventy years old, did she take a regular walk but couldn’t remember how to get back? Or did she wonder off the rest home during lunch?

Regardless of the situation, someone is looking for them earnestly and eagerly. Have you seen him? Have you seen her? After five, ten, twenty, thirty years, they never give up. Have you seen him? Have you seen her? They ask eagerly, they ask urgently, they ask persistently. They are running a local, or even a national ad. Regardless whether people would see the ad or throw them in the trash, or whether the present person would look remotely like the progressive picture the computer generated, they hope one day they will find their loved ones; who can be their children, their spouse, their children or their close friends.

Have you seen him? Have you seen her? Earnestly and eagerly, come home, come home. Softly and tenderly, come home, come home. A calling too familiar that reminds me of a loving Jesus, whatever you do, wherever you are, I want to find you, I am searching for you, and regardless how long it will take, I am running a national ad looking for you. Please come, I have prepared the feast on the table, the warm water in the tub, and I haven’t seen you in years that you don’t know how much I miss you! Have you been wary have you been tired, please come and be with me in the garden where you can rest. I can hold you till the dawn and I will take care of your broken scar. Have you seen him? Have you seen her? Please, please, when you find him, please let me know. Please, please, when you find her, please let me know. If you see him, please let him know I love him. If you see her, please let her know I love her. I am waiting.

Aspiration, generally a good term, is used primarily for people who has a dream, a dream which “aspires.” Until recently did I realize that I have been groomed to have an aspiration of a big corporation CEO with millions in the pocket. I received an MBA education where CEO is highest of the rank, and to top that, I attended St. Gallen Symposium, the most prestigious management symposium where I was chauffeured to enjoy a “future” CEO life, one with juicy rewards. That aspiration motivates me to climb up the corporate ladder and gradually get lost of who I am. Work is no longer fun, but stressful, however, letting go is no easy task. Though I can still sit in the office pretending to be happy, I gradually feel the dieing of myself. I can no longer seek for the unknown and be curious. So I resigned, doing what I like. But the aspiration captures me, making me feel unease of the financial losses and longing for a CEO life with challenging tasks. “I hope next time I see you, you are already a VP.” said one CEO of a major corporation. Do I let him down by retreaving myself at home doing what I like? Or does his expectation on me gradually become what I am aspiring for? The question is left unanswered, but regardless I decide I shall not let myself down at the very least. Then it comes to an end that I know everything comes with a price, a price that may involve my “aspiration.”

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