There are three things on my mind today.
First, our internet service was down since last Saturday. Both our internet and cell phone services are provided by Verizon. Yesterday, I nearly exhausted my cell phone data without realizing it and couldn’t get online to buy more. For a while, I felt very disconnected from the outside world, especially from my family in Beijing.
This took me back to when I first came to the U.S. in 1984. Back then, my family had to go to a distant telegraph office to make a long-distance call to me. It was very expensive at the time, and we were truly living in a disconnected age, separated by the vast Pacific.
Now, I find myself in a similar situation as my parents were when they sent me off to a faraway and unknown world. However, today’s mode of communication is far more advanced, and people are supposed to be more connected than they were 40 years ago. Yet, despite being physically closer to my children, with the internet being down, the feeling of disconnect persists.
By the way, a Verizon technician fixed the internet on Monday afternoon. He checked both the outside box and the inside equipment without finding the problem. After climbing up to inspect the high-hung wire, he left to investigate further. Eventually, he found the issue in our neighbor’s backyard—the low-hanging wire had become tangled with plant vines and was cut down by their trimmer.
Second thing, on the train to Manhattan, a young man who seemed like a recent migrant sat across from me. He was wearing a winter coat and carrying a bag, possibly his only possession. I took out a soft cloth to wipe my eyeglasses. He looked at me, and perhaps I reminded him of his distant family—his mother possibly struggling and hoping he could make a living in America and send money back home. I tried to recall if I was like this when I first came to the United States, but I couldn’t remember. At least, my family was better off than I was at that time.
Third thing, there’s Salem, my son’s cat. Salem has a weight problem, so they bought him diet food, a healthy choice. However, it’s not as tasty as the unhealthy treats he’s used to, so he absolutely refuses it, meowing loudly and angrily in protest. We also need to alternate between different flavors of canned food for him.
The issue is that the old Salem has been indulging in unhealthy food for so long that he’s grown accustomed to it. The switch to something healthier, though necessary, is hard for him to accept. Life would have been easier if he had been fed a healthy diet from a young age.
A Chinese saying goes, 习惯成自然 (xí guàn chéng zì rán), meaning "Habit becomes second nature." The saying emphasizes that habits, once formed, can become so ingrained that they feel like an inherent part of someone’s behavior. It captures how habits can shape actions and responses over time. In Salem's case, his reluctance to change his diet reflects a learned behavior rather than an unchangeable nature.
Raising pets shares some similarities with raising children, in that guardians need to instill good habits and behaviors early on. Old bad habits are difficult to break and often set the stage for big challenges later in life.