Apr 28, 2012 | Life Reflections
One of the things that my childhood best friend and I used to do a lot was to dress up in the same clothes. Our moms would buy us the same t-shirts or the same dresses in different colors, as if to say to the world, “Yea, we hang together.” There was one time though when our moms bought us Minnie Mouse t-shirts, but whereas my friend’s mom let her wear it right away, mine was stored in my mom’s closet for a long time. In fact, it was so long that by the time I wore the ‘brand new’ t-shirt, my friend was already using it as PJs.
I think generally it’s a good value to teach kids to wait vis-à -vis instant gratification or self-indulgence. The problem is when that mentality bleeds into the realms of dreams, ambition, and pursuit.
In my mid-twenties I’ve realized that many times I’m still trapped in that ‘save the best for last’ mentality, relics from my childhood past. I’d buy something nice or mildly indulgent, and store it and wait until the perfect day and time to finally use it, be it a nice towel , a journal, bath gels, etc. Usually they are in the personal items category. What happens most of the time is that I forget about them, so there they are, nicely stored, unused.
While those things are not that deep, I find myself using the same mentality when I think about certain dreams or things I want to do in life. Things like writing a book, going on mission trips, or going to exotic vacation trips. Somehow there’s a guilt-tripping voice in my head that says, those good things are for one day, one non-descript time in the future, when everything’s perfect.
It’s only relatively recently that I started questioning those voices, and shutting them up, pretty much. What is this ‘one perfect day’? Am I to wait until I’m old and have backaches to start enjoying life? No. Way.
So I am going to write a book. This year, for real. I am going to go on mission trips (which I did last year and will do it again many more times). And I am going to Paris this summer. Some good things are for now, and there’s no need to wait.
Feb 17, 2012 | Faith
On Valentine’s Day this past week, for the first time ever, I officially became a microfinancier through Kiva.org. I suppose it was my way of spreading love around the world.
I’ve been meaning to experiment with microfinance for a while, and though my knowledge on the subject is still relatively limited, from what I know, I’m a big fan of the model. The idea is to provide microcredit to self-employed individuals with limited income so that they can start or expand their businesses (mostly household businesses) without being victims of high interests from banks, which probably will not loan to those with very low or no income.
At Kiva.org, you can provide loans for as low as $25. The website has listings of various individuals around the world who are seeking for loans, their pictures, plans, and the financial institutions that Kiva works with in their respective countries. You can see how much money they need and how far along they are in their fund raising. The business areas include agriculture, clothing businesses, groceries stores, funds for education, etc. Once you get your money back, you can then re-lend it to another project on the website.[1]
On Valentine’s Day, I chose four different projects in Jordan, Pakistan, Peru, and the Philippines that moved me. I specifically chose projects by women who are widowed, except for one who is raising funds for university.
What was surprising to me was how quickly these projects became fully funded, even though when I checked them out on Tuesday, some of them were still 10% funded. Within one to three days, I got several emails from Kiva notifying that the projects I chose have become fully funded. It was impressive how much a pool of people can generate a relatively small amount of money in such a short amount of time, with presumably quite an impact in someone’s life.
Why do I like microfinance? I like it because it empowers many people to do what they need and want to do. It helps people to help themselves.
As I’m stepping into the adult life, I’ve realized how important it is for an individual to have autonomy, aspirations, and experience rewards in one’s work life. More than earning a living, these things boost one’s morale and help achieve a better life. It is far more superior to being told what to do or being a mere recipient of someone else’s charity.
There is an impressive quote in the book Education regarding courtesy.
True courtesy is not learned by the mere practice of rules of etiquette. Propriety of deportment is at all times to be observed; wherever principle is not compromised, consideration of others will lead to compliance with accepted customs; but true courtesy requires no sacrifice of principle to conventionality. It ignores caste. It teaches self-respect, respect for the dignity of man as man, a regard for every member of the great human brotherhood. Ellen G. White, Education, p. 240, emphasis added.
Although donations will always remain an important option in the portfolio of charity work, sometimes simply giving money to someone or a group of people is not the best thing for the receiver. Some forms of donation are simply patronizing, which in turn demoralize and paralyze the recipients, because they affirm the people’s feeling of helplessness. Such forms of ‘charity work’ do not practice true courtesy, in that it does not see the recipient at eye-level in a “I’m rich, you’re poor” kind of way, instead of telling them that they too can achieve and one day give.
At the creation, labor was appointed as a blessing. It meant development, power, happiness. The changed condition of the earth through the curse of sin has brought a change in the conditions of labor; yet though now attended with anxiety, weariness, and pain, it is still a source of happiness and development. And it is a safeguard against temptation. Its discipline places a check on self-indulgence, and promotes industry, purity, and firmness. Thus it becomes a part of God’s great plan for our recovery from the Fall. The youth should be led to see the true dignity of labor. Ellen G. White, Education, p. 214, emphasis added.
I think it is the purpose of true education to ennoble humanity and restore the dignity that God gives to human beings. And one of the ways to do that is to help people to work.
Jan 27, 2012 | Life Reflections
When I was a Bostonian (or just-outside-of-Boston-ian), randomness was one of life’s essentials. Due to the brilliant construct of the MIT campus, the great ol’ Massachusetts Avenue divided the campus between the student life section on the west side, where most of the dorms, gym, and student center were located, and the academic buildings on the east side. When my classes and research work were done on a random weekday, but before the problem set marathon, I would come out of 77 Massachusetts Avenue in the late afternoon and many times, instead of crossing the street to head to my dorm, I would turn left instead and walk toward Boston.
Upon turning, the Boston skyline across the Charles River would immediately be in sight. I would walk across the river, which would take about twenty minutes one way, and simply enjoy the breeze and the sight of a big body of water. When the sky was clear and blue, it would be very close to what I’d call perfection.
Usually, after I got to the other side of the bridge, I would simply cross the street and walk back. On a freer day during vacation, I would extend the walk into the city, walking along Newbury Street, crossing the Boston Public Garden and Boston Commons, even going as far as Government Center and Little Italy. For what reason, you may ask? Well, nothing particularly, except for the simple pleasure of walking and savoring the moment. I loved the fact that I didn’t need to go anywhere, didn’t need to do anything, and I could just…be.
Sure, the one-hour detour or the Boston loop may heal a case of a cluttered brain, or increase the oxygen intake in my blood stream. But these functional reasons were not really why I went on a walk. I wanted to enjoy the walk not for what it could do, but for what it was.
I believe in enjoying life. I believe in extracting as much joy as I can in various simple pleasures, and walking is one of the ways I find that enjoyment. The air, the surroundings, and the people – I get to experience all of that when I move at pedestrian’s speed.
As I get older, this type of spontaneity becomes less and less accessible. But I still believe in its importance. Perhaps it requires more intentionality in carving out time for enjoyment, especially amidst the numerous tasks that we need to do.
“There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.” Ecclesiastes 2:24
Perhaps because the verse is sandwiched between Solomon’s “all is vanity” litanies, I used to read it in a more bitter tone: things are going to be gone and destroyed eventually, so just enjoy them while they last. But read in an optimistic way, the verse says quite a different lesson: don’t worry that things won’t last, just be grateful that they are here now. Take pleasure in food, enjoy your good labor – these are gifts from God.
Sometimes I think about how I would be remembered, should my life end. In a busy world that puts much value in working, I actually don’t want ‘hard-working’ to be the first thing people think about when they hear my name. Instead, I want to be remembered as someone who enjoys life and everything that I do, someone who lives with joy.
How fitting it is that Sabbath is here, a day to be savored not because it serves as a relief to the week’s burden or weariness, but because of what it is – a time to be.
“There is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord… The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation; from the world of creation to the creation of the world.” (Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath)
