Mount Tamalpais: Breathe and Be

If not for the longer days or lighter breeze, I love summer days because it simply makes me feel most like myself. You forego the extra clothing and pare away the accessories, and maybe even do without any makeup. It’s the literal shedding of letting yourself just breathe and be.

On this summer day of July, we went on a hike at Mount Tamalpais and did a mellow 7mile – Matt Davis trail through a forest and redwoods while blue skies bathed us in light. The trail was a good mix of terrain and elevation gain, with many water crossings and sweeping views of coastal line.

As I age I’ve become increasingly aware of taking full responsibility of the energy I bring – to wherever I go and whoever I meet. Your perception of self affects your vibe and dictates your interactions with others.

So take care of yourself first.

Find more grace in the pockets of your heart – drink your morning coffee, go for a walk (as I call it, a walking mediation), write down the thoughts that run wild in your mind. I aspire you to make peace with the part of yourself you’ve been at war with, forgive the version of you who didn’t know better back then.

Tying you closer than most,

On Her

oh her

yeah i know her

when i think of her i see her dancing. but only in the kitchen. music and food to her were love and feeding people was loving them

she carried pasta. babies. boxes and steadiness on her hips the way mothers. movers and queen’s do

i remember that she laughed like a bell. or like windchimes in a storm. piercing tumult with levity that could be heard even in the distance

she had a tendency to look for the eyes in the room that saw the unspoken the same way she did. she found him that way

they heard silence and read undercurrents the same. while those around them heard only spoken words and saw only tangible figures.

she had the ability to curl into the cozy corner of a strangers couch like it was her own and leaves as an already old and trusted friend.

she was comfortable like that – shoeless, makeupless, planless… she had finally settled into her skin once she learned that you can’t feel another’s love fully until you feel your own

she felt the world like shouldering a duffle bag of bricks and when they felt too heavy. she set them down and tried to make something

not always something functional, but whimsical and beautiful and intentional… at the least

she wasn’t great with her hands. but her mind made up for the lack of dexterity. in fact. she was never really the best, but she humbly linked arms with gratitude and recognized that “best” was subjective and perhaps overrated anyhow but humility. integrity. and enthusiasm were. well. unbiased

she was the kind that looked for her reflection in others and was careful that she looked back at someone she wanted to be. if she saw a meanness. she addressed her own. if she saw a lack of awareness. she sought her own accountability.

but really. the reflection was always changing because so was she

and change to her was not just a welcome guest. but a carriage. one she willingly stepped into. because moving anywhere was usually better standing still

so yeah. i know her. i see her heart. because she really tries to show – often and without pretense. it’s confusing to some. but the ones that see it. really do

I am a part of all that I have met.

I am sometimes caught off guard by things that I miss. They are so specific. The purple bouquet on the dining table. The morning commute to my 8am internship when I got to steal a pause and indulge in my cheesy playlist. The nights I came home to my two best friends. We drank wine and poked fun and complained about the most trivial things that had happened during the day. The particular stretch of pavement between my doorstep and the street that I’d walk with equal parts fear and hope before a first date.

Life wasn’t at all stress free, but it felt just the right side of easy. Like faith itself was loose and adept and everywhere.

I had no idea it would feel this way, this place, college, this past year. It never occurred to me that I’d need to miss what I still had – what I’d not yet lost.

Four years of throwing a hook against a stone wall hoping it might catch, quietly panicked it might not.

I’ve come to keep finding some people in parts of me never knew existed – the friends that represent a world in me, a world probably not born until they arrive.

Leo

She is one of the most genuine, hilarious, and caring people alive. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you the same.

She’s witty and sassy and got the most complex jokes that require at least ten seconds of thinking. She loves to buy well curated bouquets of flowers for the house. Particularly with baby’s breath. And she would order her dish different from everyone else’s just so we all can try it.

She is my ENFP twin and I recognize SO MANY tendencies that we share – self-victimizing, liking the familiarity of dramatic occurrences, owning up the secretly dark side of depression in our genes that no one would understand except for us. Our intuitive nature has for more than one time led us down a rabbit hole. We are so similar that I swear if we go to a club, we would undoubtedly hit on the same guy (it has happened twice, actually).

Though we resemble so ambiguously, she has taught me the most about giving, and being kind.

I know by heart that I’m the worst friend ever to anyone, but I’m taking baby steps to try to remember friends’ birthday – people that play a part in my life. I’ve come to share my food more often simply by saying, “wanna try.” And always take the initiative to help others as long as I can.

I refuse to let my bitterness reject and judge others. I refuse to be around anyone for any other reason than to love them.

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I own this more-giving-than-I’ve-ever-been part to Leo.

Pieces

I can safely say no one understands my personality better than he does. He is a person with a big heart, and he probably doesn’t even realize it.

I have always like my people a bit damaged. A bit difficult to stereotype. Who’ve seen themselves be cruel. Who’ve felt scary amount of insanity and rage and sadness. Who in all has come to attain familiarity and fluency with both their good and bad parts despite all that.

He is the one who was there for me when I was in a daily battle with depression, by showing me how everyone is tragically flawed, like him, and pushed me through life, anyway. With him, I feel like I am someone who is lucky enough to find someone who shines bright enough to lead me out of the dark.

He sees the best in people. He has always been an active listener to all my first world problems, my mental breakdowns that happen more often than not. He would look past the bad and spot the little things I should first appreciate, helping me see my strengths for myself. He does so effortlessly.

Our conversation runs so fluently, so handily. We would throw out stupid random questions at 8AM in the morning and vow to never speak to each other again, but in reality, he misses hearing his messages blow up at 2AM and I guess I need him in my life, too.

I always complain about how he doesn’t have an Instagram, because if he does, I could do an appreciation post on all that he did for me, for being there all along. But really, I also don’t think anyone needs to know because I’m certain he does more for others.

Recently I met a person. One time he complained to me about “the obnoxious Asian Asians”. He described them as uneducated, conceited, and ill-behaved based entirely on their one-time behaviors. To me, he appeared as judgmental, contemptuous, and insensitive.

That is not to say he fits into these criteria as a person. But his tone certainly did.

“You gotta accept people for who they are,” I quietly responded.

If one day I find myself solely focusing on the good in people – like this time as I uttered those words, it must’ve been because of Pieces.

I’m thankful to find this capacity in myself.

Sagittarius

We are so different.

She is everything that I am not. She possesses everything that I don’t have, – fierce drive, determined discipline, the urge to keep everything organized, and always ask for what she wants to know – all in all, a big personality.

She has a clear list of “non-negotiables,” as I like to call them – the things that she stands for in her decisions and cannot be swayed on.

She likes to make decisions and map out everything in her schedule – like a “control freak” as she would call herself.

Not surprisingly, from her I learnt the most about taking up space, and this is soOoOo important as a woman.

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There were days where all I wanted to do was run myself in circles around lies I couldn’t piece together. I wanted answers but that’s the thing about my nature: it wants me to obsess over things I cannot change, things that I am too afraid of losing, and it wants me to be helpless to move forward.

I remember that one time she was there to push me to don’t play by the rules. Don’t care about the metrics. To send the text, to ask the question. Even though in the end I came to a conclusion that it was better do my relationship my own way. I appreciated it.

There were moments where I came up with all these wild thoughts and she was the one who didn’t see my dreams to be impossible. The one who grounded me in truth but also taught me to reach for more.

There will come a day, in the not so distant future, when I will muster up my courage to be an advocate for all that I want to be. And I will for damn sure know where it all came from.

So yes,

“As you grow older, you start to realize you play a role in the becoming of other people. Words either hurt or heal. They build a person up or they cause a person to shrivel. Words hold power and you get to decide, every single day, how you want to use your words. Go for growth. Go that extra mile to encourage someone else. Point people out from the crowd and call out their greatness. You are a grower of people. You get chances every single day to lift others up. It’s an immense responsibility but it can change your whole life. When all else fails: life others up and into the light.”

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As I’m typing this, I’ve just/already graduated. Three weeks into adulthood, and I’m finally able to catch a breath.

Despite all that, I’m mostly surprised by how much I don’t miss. And how so much of what I do miss feels irrevocably lost. As though it’s been packed up and put away.

In fact, it soon will be. In two weeks time I will leave, and I will not look back. I will give thanks for these four years, but my body yearns for what my heart wants.

It’s a decision that I feel deeply and quietly and unambiguously right. Which is to say, I’m excited.

This photo was taken when a company flew me back to San Francisco for an interview, and yesterday they just called to extend me a full time offer. I’ve never thought of my post-grad job search as this easy.

I’m still not sure of most things in life, but one distinct clarity I know of is that, if I stayed in one place, I wouldn’t have much to share or things to write about.

I may never again relive my last year of undergrad. But I am every story I have ever read. And every word I have ever written. I am a part of all that I have met. And I most certainly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Tying you closer than most,

Yolie

In Building This Life Pt. 22

2017 has been magic, and not. Or the year of me being 22, as my birthday is only four days away from the end of the year.

All somersaults forward and utter stillness.

All of which, if I had to be honest, was a year-long shitstorm. And I can’t even make it sound pretty.

In 2017, I wanted to walk through the very best door.

In the first two months of this year, I was out of the woods with new perspectives gaining from studying abroad.

I felt recharged. I felt whole. And all until I crashed into someone, falling head over heels.

There are some people who you look at, and you can just tell how the story will end. But when I looked at him, I just knew instinctively, that despite the odds against us and although life would always find a way to test us, I’d look forward to a new day after him.

He isn’t super my type. He doesn’t have the right combination of a 6’ stature and an athletic body. But we met, we clicked. He quickly drew out the long-lost caring and loving side of me. He was the reason why I started to give a fvkc again.

Prettiness aside, we had more than our fair share of ugly arguments. Time and time again we were tested by our differences, idiosyncrasies, and individual flaws that were unavoidably brought to light as any two people move forward.

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When it became clear that our interests didn’t match up, I still held on.

I went from being a confident free spirit to a self-doubting emo cripple staying in an almost-relationship, stagnant and idle.

I couldn’t escape from the feeling that I was unworthy. It was a feeling that taped into almost every other negative emotion I was capable of. I was stuck in a long period of thick depression, fumbling through life half-hearted.

I almost lost it all for someone who had nothing to bring to my table. Who I thought was my very best door.

Hope, as it turned out, took quite a lot of work.

Luckily for me, my soul wasn’t going to give up that easily, instead, it led me back to blogging.

Words have always meant everything to me. Words have somehow convinced me that I mustn’t live ordinarily. I must be wild enough to chase after my dreams and then, maybe then, I will become those dreams.

With my first blog created back in middle school, I wrote only in Chinese. I liked to play with words, break conventional grammar rules, which in turned made my peers tilt their heads in confusion – “Reading this is giving me a headache.”

Years later, I still am, surprisingly yet thankfully, embracing writing. For a long while, I’d been seeking my muse, my anchor in English format. As I worked to put together pieces of work, some would comment, “Are you depressed?”

In reality, this is just how I write.

But I don’t find that annoying. I find it rather cute, actually.

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In May, I dedicated myself to this blog. I polished the site to look more professionally, sorting out categories of lifestyle, travel, and more.

I’ve come to own my feelings, take pride in my passion.

Own your stories. Our stories are ours, they belong to us, and we should be able to tell them – not at the convenience of others but when we are ready.

I am a sucker for words, and especially for words that when strung together feel like an entrancing story. Or maybe if I work hard enough the story will sing. It will come out right and strong, it will matter.

You never know.

I remember a time when my cheeks were ablaze, but now the only blaze that flares up is the one in my heart called passion. The passion to move forward. Sometimes the flames dim, like today. But all it takes is a good idea, fuel, to bring the flame alight again.

It’s a tough world out there, but it takes a tougher person to be gentle in it.

I practiced forgiveness – for myself, too.

For myself, especially.

It has taken me a very long time to understand that there are people who are just not good.

This is the time where the whole society is questioning patriarchy, power, and misogyny, #metoo. And for the longest time I withheld the details; I still do to some degree. Out of the fear that people would question me, doubt me. Because I regretted denying my instinct from the beginning which was to avoid him.

For a long while I thought that as everyone aged they’d shed the noise of immaturity to reveal an innate goodness below. They’d be sensitive, soft-spoken. But that in fact takes quite a lot of work and the intelligence to know when it is needed. And some people are so deeply toxic with themselves that it is easier to cast the toxicity outwards and catch others in the net.

It turns out that as one works up the courage to leave the situation all together, it only creates more space to confront it.

Which is why, it is only now, all this time later, that I am loosening my grip. But it is an uncomfortable process. Something very human in me is still reminded of the hurtful snapshots from time to time. Something very human in me is afraid to break free.

But through the thick of it,

I’ve come to forgive the people who I love/loved for being as flawed as everyone else, as flawed as I am.

I’ve come to forgive myself for being the one who has to go through all that. There is not one thing you are meant to know before you are meant to know it.

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Despite how open, peaceful, and loving you attempt to be, people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves. The eyes see only what the mind is ready to comprehend.

I still want to walk through the very best door.

But I’ve learnt not to make the mistake of choosing the closest available door, as opposed to the best one.

So this is a little PSA (mostly for myself) to say: Try anyway. Do the best you can. Make peace with the imperfection of it. And move tf on. Sometimes your best isn’t quite as great you’d like it to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s not enough.

Finally in mid-September, I started to take my life back. Little by little. Piece by piece.

I moved into a new house, living with two of my best friends. Some days were still so damn shitty. But then I was reminded of the women I knew, and I was like. Aite. “We can do this.”

I dug into new possibilities and found myself hooking into data analysis. So much so that transcribing data became my alternative way of translating the non-sense to words. As if writing my own dramas and feelings and anecdotes is not enough and I have to steal the words for other things.

Later in December, I got a job offer at a well-established marketing firm. And that was when I truly reaffirmed that, you attract whatever energy you radiate — again… the Law of Attraction 101.

As life inches forward…

This year was hard. I think I can say that honestly, without addition or pretense. I am so glad this year is ending real soon. And as I’m back home in San Francisco for my last-ever winter break, quietly happy, I couldn’t help but think I’m moving onto 2018, or 23, with everything I might need.

A little bit of grit. A sense of awe. A capacity for both joy and sadness. A clear and meaningful value system. And a deep appreciation for the woman my 22nd year made me – or the woman I became in spite of my 22.

At the end of the day, people don’t really change. But at the end of year, they kinda do.

Tying you closer than most,

Yolie

What It’s Like to “Adult” on Short Notice

Two things that happened last month has fast-forwarded my life at an exponential rate.

In a blink of an eye, here I am, a 20-something adult who just witnessed my first friend get married, and started my first full-time internship in SF Financial District.

Real shit in life slapped me in the face – marriage is now a thing in my age range and right beside me, the urgent need to follow a grandma schedule so that I can wake up for my 9 am, the thought of how I want my future to look like and whether my abilities match up.

All of which, if I’m honest, has caught me off guard. I’m still unready (and yes, too lazy) to ACTUALLY “grow up”.

However,

As I fumbled through my first two weeks of internship, I’ve found that adulting was not just what I’d always envisioned it to be – exempting from homework and exams, or holding responsibilities that more experienced adults cling onto.

Essentially, it is about the process of becoming.

You do the “adulty” things to feel, pull through, and eventually pass into the state where what you have to do is what you do.

And in the process of adulting…

I: Bonding With the Right People Is Key.

Interning at a non-profit has definitely taught me the hard way.

What we do? We host events to raise awareness for partnered charities. We bring those who can help to those who need help. To be more specific, it involves high levels of face-to-face communication, creative brainstorm, and team spirits on the daily basis.

In a setting where I have to constantly meet clients and make them believe what I believe, I’ve come to recognize similar characteristics that dwelled in those who reciprocated in the conversations, and expressed concerns in the matter.

Regardless of their final decisions, they showed respect, demonstrated proper demeanors, and responded with a dose of compassion.

They behaved this way NOT because this was all they knew. But they saw their own full spectrum of capabilities, and decide on it.

It’s vital to differentiate the right people.

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Translation:

“The best kind of people are the ones that come into your life, and make you see the sun where you once saw clouds. The people that believe in you so much, you start to believe in you too. The people that love you, simply for being you. The once in a lifetime kind of people.”

“I’m so lucky to have you two (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)”

I’m not naturally a people person. I’d go out of my way to ignore someone I know in the street when I’m not in the mood for a conversation. Sometimes I’m extremely socially conscious but also fiercely individualistic – wanting to fit in a group but never compromising my personality to do so. And ALWAYS having the tug-of-war between “YES, I WANT TO GO OUT” and “nah, grandma needs to rest.”

But when it comes to the right people, I’d want to, and feel the need to invest in them.

I still do things on my own terms. But I’ve come to minimize excruciating small talks. Divert the effort to people who I know would appreciate and reciprocate. Listen to and learn about their stories. And be vulnerable enough to share some of mine.

It is then I learn that as soon as I begin to pay ACTUAL attention to the right people, foster meaningful and consistently loving relationships with them,

They will respond in the exact same way and take matters into their own hands. It’s Law of Attraction 101… Duh.

II: There Will Be A Lot of Rejections.

To be frank, out of the countless pitches we delivered, the percentage of funders we converted was not too high (but close to average, though).

And as an intern, I am the first point of contact for potential clients, and inevitably, receive rejections firsthand.

“I’m on the clock.”

“I’m in a big hurry.”

“No thanks.”

By taking in all the rejections littering almost every conversation, I was reminded of the convenient elements in formulating an excuse – time, incompatibility, etc.

They exist in different forms in a relationship.

“I’m not ready.”

“Let’s take it slow.”

*No response*

Human beings, especially myself, have developed a high capability to deaden feelings, and a tendency to lose one another.

We owe this skill to our mastery of empirical rejections – the power that comes from numerous trails of deciphering messages (three-letter responses, disappearing for hours, for example) and acting on that knowledge to normalize and absorb the same behaviors (keep it short, make him wait).

We reject the rejections anticipating a comeback. We play the same rules the other person set. Basically, we let other people dictate our actions.

I’m an avid believer in magnetism, the power of human aura, and its ability in influencing the things and the people around.

When facing negative energy, a skilled empath would acknowledge it, know how to discharge and deflect it, but MOST people would unknowingly absorb it.

And I was one of them.

My friend was right. I was like a robot. I was programmed to embrace the concept of give and take, only willing to put in as much effort as I received. All the toxic energy so caught up with me that even when something good happened, I questioned if they’d be better off without me.

I expected the worst, so I refused to be forward.

I hated feeling void, so I’d rather not have it at all.

But alas,

All the rejections thrown at me at work brought me face to face with the lost pieces of me – my ability to crush objections. Instead of feeling defeated, I could be an initiator myself, a source of positivity and vitality for others.

I’ve come to be wiser and more patient. I stopped letting the negativity. Or the “texting rules.” Or the fear of getting rejections deter me from trying.

Try, anyway.

Continue to love and long and lust for the pleasures of life. In every single way there is to express to and experience the people around.

Be sweet. Be caring.

“But what if it doesn’t work? how do I get better?”

Annalee set down her crossword. “You should say good-bye.”

“It’s too late. He’s gone.”

“Sometimes it helps to say it anyway.”

“Can you tell me … Did he ever feel the way I did?”

“Ah, baby.” Annalee tapped her pen gently on Gracie’s hand. “Some of us wear our hearts. Some of us carry them.

– Stephanie Perkins, “Head, Scales, Tongue, Tai”

III: What You Do Makes YOU Who You Are.

As you might have guessed, working for a non-profit wasn’t my first choice.

Right, my internship decision has gotten me some slightly shocked looks at social gatherings, “that must be, umm, rewarding?” folks would say, sneaking a glance at my scuffed shoes.

It’s strange how oftentimes there is a negative connotation associated with the name “non-profit.” The public perception would link it with lower pay, fewer resources.

As real as it gets, my two weeks of experience told me the otherwise.

In this short amount of time, I met some of the most inspiring team leaders in my life. They had high stamina, tactical communication skills, and were willing to teach. And also a group of charismatic interns who came from varied accredited universities and owned big hearts.

Despite of the name “non-profit,” I was surrounded by individuals who motivated me, challenged me to be better, and I aspired to become one day.

I was at war with myself: do we choose our jobs based on what we expect to gain or who we hope to become?

I think the truth is that life is going to place you into many, many uncomfortable positions. And sometimes we don’t really get to choose. But if it matters to you, cultivate it.

Here’s the rub: it has to matter to you.

Dig it. Work on it. It’ll all add to your characters writ large.

Be kind. Be good.

My internship decision might not sound as cool as other corporations,

But I see myself in it.

Because at the end of the day, this is the type of person I hope to become.

IV: Be Patient, It DOESN’T Happen Over Night.

Conventional wisdom is that it takes 21 days to form a new habit,

And anywhere from 18 to 254 for a lifestyle change to feel automatic.

Since what we’re talking about here can mean making a fundamental change to the coding of our operation system,

Depending on your levels of commitment I’d go right ahead and triple that.

I think that’s like it all about.

Learn something you always wanted to, learn something you hate so much,

But you’re never too good at anything.

With all love,

A gloomy optimist

Yosemite Valley: The Spring Playground

If you haven’t noticed, I have a thing for national parks. Specifically, I’m most comfortable in workout gear and the only slightest idea as to my exact location at any given point in time. I find comfort in falling off the grid and abiding a different clock than the outside world. And Yosemite gave me an exact experience where the charm hasn’t been overshadowed by the deluge of modernity. It is something that I’ve always longed for.

Glacier Point

Bridalveil Fall

Mirror Lake

Mirror Lake

We didn’t leave Irvine until 9:30 p.m. on Friday due to the little detour to Summer Land (aka the school music festival that for once with a decent lineup). After a four and a half hour drive singing our heart out to Eason Chan (the ultimate roadtrip song obvi), We arrived in Oakhurst, the small town where our Airbnb was located. Hidden in a valley, it was an exquisite gabled cabin with a triangular roof. Standing on the balcony, you could hear the silvery sound of the running creek and the water splashing the rocks. Outside the cabin, you would find a million stars shining bright in the sky. It’s like the wish would really come true if you made one… ya feel:)

Yosemite was such a resilient playground where we were welcomed with idyllic views and vigorous energy. The scenic drive into the park was only a small taste as to what you’ll witness once in the valley. The trails varied from staircases to flat fields dipping below the waterfalls. The streams were in full force raging with water from melting snow. We maneuvered across the creeks with the least amount of water-to-pants contact.. but only to get drenched in the mist flowing off the falls. Here I included a list of the spots that my friends and I went to during our time at the park:

Glacier Point
Lower Yosemite Falls
Bridalveil Fall
Mirror Lake

Although we were only able to visit a few spots due to the heavy traffic and the limited amount of time, we had zero issues filling our day. When you hate something there are millions of words to describe it, but when you’re happy, that’s it – you’re just happy.

Stay adventurous,

Yolie