Different paths to success: treasure hunts vs jigsaw puzzles

There are so many things that I'd like to write about today. First, I saw this post by an acquaintance of mine who just became a full professor, "I’ve reached the finish line! No more assisting or associating with professors—I am one! A FULL professor! It’s been a tough but incredibly rewarding journey."

Immediately, this poem surfaces in my head, "春风得意马蹄疾,一日看尽长安花" (chūn fēng dé yì mǎ tí jí, yī rì kàn jǐn cháng ān huā), meaning: riding the galloping horse swiftly with spring breeze at my back, I see all the flowers of Chang'an in one single day. The poet of the Tang Dynasty wrote these lines after passing the Imperial Examination. The poem captures the joy, excitement, and exhilaration of achieving success, like riding a galloping horse through the blooming city of Chang'an and enjoying all its beauty in one single day.

Second, yesterday I was going through the notes that I took a few years ago when we interviewed some high achievers among high school and college students.

During the interview of one high achiever who ended up at MIT, a parent asked, "What if you don't know what you should do now?" The interviewee answered, "At this point, I don't know what I want to do in the future. There are still plenty of questions for me to sort out. I think I will be okay if I keep doing what I'm interested in. I might not have the direct route to what I want to do, but the experience that I have on the way is going to be valuable and useful, even if I am not doing what I initially set out to do. What I learn in the process is so valuable to me."

This is perfectly alright if you see life as entering a treasure hunt journey, trying different things and enjoying the process of trying because you don't know exactly what you want to do with your life.

But if you read biographies of famous people, you will notice one thing in common: most of them did not necessarily start from an advantageous position in life; rather, they all began earlier. They all figured out what they wanted to do with their lives at a very young age. I also think of my son who, still a teenager, figured out what he wanted to pursue in his career.

If you have a clear idea of what that final picture looks like and understand where to find the pieces, the rest of the task is like solving a jigsaw puzzle. Every piece helps you get closer to the whole picture. On the other hand, with the treasure hunt, you might spend more time trying different routes.

Time is the biggest asset for young people, especially during their 20s, the most energetic decade of their life. Trying different treasure hunt routes might not be as time efficient as adding jigsaw pieces to your whole picture.

Finally, whether you approach your career and life as a treasure hunt or a jigsaw puzzle, the key is to remain dedicated, curious, and open to learning. Each path has its own rewards and challenges, and having a clear goal and understanding your journey are important toward achieving your own version of success.

Days of Distraction by a young Asian American author

Last week, while staying at my son's place, I read Days of Distraction: A Novel (2020) by Alexandra Chang, a young Chinese American writer from San Francisco who earned her MFA in 2018. The novel reads like a fictionalized autobiography of her young life.

The story follows a young Chinese American woman, the narrator, meeting the emotional and psychological challenges of her relationship with a white man. It delves into timeless themes such as family immigration history, identity, racial and gender stereotypes, interracial relationships, and cultural differences.

As a tech journalist covering Silicon Valley, the narrator feels dissatisfied with her job and stagnant in her career. She decides to accompany her boyfriend to New York, where he will pursue graduate school. Amidst this move, she finds herself away from her family, friends, and familiar surroundings, just two of them, an Asian girl and a white man, keenly aware of the differences in their life experiences and racial and cultural backgrounds.

The novel's fractured structure, with its narrative jumping between past and present, research and reflection, alternating between narrative and silent introspection, adds a dramatic layer to the storytelling. This technique perhaps mirrors the author's intent to evoke the complexities of her personal reflection and fictional exploration of her own life experiences.

As the narrator struggles with the tensions between her Chinese American heritage past and her present romance with a white boyfriend, Chang experiments freely with new creative format and invites readers to appreciate her creation and contemplate the universal themes of belonging, identity, personal growth, cultural and racial differences.

To me, the best part of the book is the sense that Chang is experimenting with the book's structure and form without any restrictions, creating a unique reading experience.

Finally, while the novel receives high ratings from some, it may not resonate with every reader. Our reading experience is highly subjective, influenced by our preferences, expectations, and background. It is perfectly valid if, like me, you find the book didn't meet your expectations.

Reflections on oath-taking experience and immigration

Yesterday, something interesting happened at the oath-taking ceremony. First, applicants were asked questions like, "Are you affiliated with any terrorist or communist organization?"

Secondly, among the 60-plus new citizens, the majority appeared to hail from south of the border, with few Asians and almost no white individuals. This demographic distribution may reflect broader trends in the U.S. immigration patterns, signaling a notable shift from historically Europe to today's South and Central America.

Moreover, the primary drivers of human migration remain the same: economic and social factors, elucidating the greater influx from the poor South and Central America compared to the rich countries in Europe.

During my stay at my son's home this week, I delved into the novel How Much of These Hills Is Gold by C Pam Zhang. The narrative weaves a tale of two orphaned Chinese-American girls amidst the 1840s Gold Rush, blending fiction with a realistic historical backdrop.

Both the novel and the oath-taking experience resonate deeply with the immigrant journey. They evoke familiar themes in the lives of today's immigrants: being drawn to this land by the promise of prosperity akin to the gold mountain, the ache of homesickness, encounters with diverse forms of discrimination, maintaining cultural heritage from their homeland, and the perennial question, “What makes a home a home?” in a land where they both grow up and feel estranged.

A Chinese proverb aptly captures the immigrant experience: 背井离乡 (bèi jǐng lí xiāng), leave one's home village, evoking the sense of leaving behind one's home in search for a better life, facing hardships, and longing for a new home. This encapsulates the emotional journey endured by generations of immigrants on this land.

The quest for a better life has historically driven migration, still persisting as a powerful motivation today. Yet, this journey is often marked by profound and often unexpected challenges.

As the country embraces new citizens, let us honor and listen to their immigration stories, especially today, celebrating their enduring spirit in the pursuit of a place they can call home.

Alice Munro: a Nobel Prize laureate and a failed mother

We went oath-taking ceremony today.

I have long admired Munro's ability to weave intricate narratives that delve deep into the human emotions and conditions. However, recent revelations about her personal life have left me with a sense of ambivalence. 

Munro, famous for her literary achievements including the 2013 Nobel Prize in Literature, also grappled with complexities in her personal relationships that challenge our perceptions of her as a writer and as a decent person.

I have a troubled feeling about Munro from a parenting perspective. Alice Munro was not a typical mother; in a sense, one might argue she shouldn't have been a mother at all, despite having four children. She described herself as having ambivalent feelings about motherhood and did not adhere to conventional moral principles that uphold motherhood as a sacred duty.

She did not willingly choose motherhood but felt compelled to become a mother due to societal pressures and norms of her era. Up to this point, one might feel sympathy for her, considering her limited life choices at the time. 

However, once she had children, the primary maternal instinct to protect her brood should have kicked in. In that regard, she failed, and I find it difficult to forgive.

Her youngest daughter, Andrea Robin Skinner, when she was 9 years old, was sexually abused by her stepfather, Munro's second husband. Her mother, Alice Munro, decided to side and stay with her second husband. I would feel a deep sense of betrayal and injustice, if I were her daughter. Like, hey mom, I trust you would protect me but you didn't.

Children belong to a vulnerable population due to their dependence on parents for care, protection, and guidance. When a mother fails to protect her child from severe harm, especially in cases of sexual abuse, it raises serious concerns about her parental responsibility. This failure calls into question her role as a protector and caregiver.

Protecting one's child from any harm is a fundamental part of parenting, and failure of this responsibility can result in significant emotional and psychological damage to the child.

In the case of Alice Munro, what happened can be seen as a breach of the trust, care and protection that are essential to the parent-child relationship, resulting in her daughter's lifelong suffering from this. This I can't forgive.

Remembering my father on his anniversary and learning about longevity

Today marks the 37th anniversary of my father's passing. He passed away before reaching age 58. My sisters in Beijing are going to have dumplings to remember the day. We talked a lot about getting the most out of our lives.

Yesterday, a friend of mine recommended a book on longevity: Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity by Peter Attia and Bill Gifford. I wish my father could have lived long enough to benefit from this book.

The book provides a blueprint for a longer and better life, focusing on exercise, nutrition, sleep, and emotional/mental health. The authors claim that no other longevity drug is more potent than exercise. They discuss at length the benefits of exercise, noting that those who exercise regularly live a decade longer than sedentary seniors and that we should strive to be athletes for life.

Exercise reduces the risk of all Four Horsemen: heart disease, cancer, neurodegenerative disease, and type 2 diabetes and related metabolic dysfunction. It boosts your metabolism, making your body run healthier and better at repairing itself.

Related to exercise is the importance of maintaining muscle mass. By the time people reach age 80, they will have lost 40% of their muscle mass compared to when they were 20. The speed of muscle loss increases with age, and the older you get, the harder it is to gain muscle.

Therefore, the earlier you start building and accumulating muscle, the better. The authors compare muscle accumulation to saving money for retirement: start saving when you're young so that you have money to spend when you retire. Similarly, start building your muscle mass when you are young so you have muscle to rely on in old age.

It's the same logic. Just as you can't wait until you are 65 to start saving for retirement, you can't wait until you are old to start exercising. The earlier you start both, the better; the more you save for old age, the longer these resources will serve you.

If you don't have the strength to enjoy physical activities or the things you love, you will lose your zest for life.

A Chinese saying: 未雨绸缪 (wèi yǔ chóu móu): "to take precautions before it rains," emphasizing the importance of planning and preparing in advance, especially in saving.

Reflecting on my father's early passing and the insights from the book Outlive, I'm keenly aware of the profound importance of taking proactive actions, starting young and early, towards a longer and healthier life.

By honoring the memories of those we've lost, we will ensure that we live our lives to the fullest. Let us commit to building strong, healthy habits today, so that we can enjoy a vibrant and fulfilling life.