I know it’s not quite as romantic as one would imagine putting your husband and the pandemic in the same sentence. But hey, love transcends all grammatical barriers. 

The past 15 months of the pandemic, job changes, global racism wakening, world ending, life-altering, earth-shattering events, the only constant in my life has been waking up in the morning, looking over the snoring, bearded being next to me and thought “How lucky I am to be here.”

I have my garden for peace. I have tomatoes and squash and cabbage and cauliflowers and wildflowers and tulips and nautilus. And no matter how shitty the weather is, they continue to grow, to sprout, to fight against the pest, the wind, the snow, the south-facing sun. And life goes on. 

Happiness is a moment next to your husband, a moment in your garden

 John Donne proclaimed “No Man Is an Island” in an uplifting saying that we so often stole without attribution. With Covid, and work from home, and bubbles, and the political climate that we are in now, I am not so sure. 

The truth is, it feels increasingly like an island lately. I work from home 7 to 4 most days. I go for 2 walks, mostly with my brother, in relative silence. I exercise by myself. I haven’t read the news or Facebook in days. Linked In is my source of updates and social contact (I know, I’m becoming a boomer). 

My partner is back at work (physical, in-office) for an organization that I, well, let’s just say severely disapprove of. I am proud of him and all the great work that he is doing. I want to be the supportive cool hubby. I do. But it’s straining and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely when he wants me to approve his organization’s work, too. I know it’s straining and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely for him that I don’t love the work that his organization is doing. So as best as I could, I don’t talk about it. I don’t read about his organization anymore. It can get lonely.

My friend from the US (that I made in California, he’s back in Chicago now) reached out after the shooting on Wednesday to check in on me. I didn’t know what happened (again, haven’t read the news in weeks). I was with him during the George Floyd period last year. From my short time in America, racism and misogyny against women were very real to me. Especially for Asian and Asian Americans, it is that much darker because it was silent. Men fetishizing Asian women. The media demasculinize Asian men. We are seen as the silent model minority, as laundromat workers, tax accountants, software nerds, among other stereotypes. 

If anything, the events in the past years have created a silver lining – the Black community and the Asian community coming together. As Eddie Huang’s book once recalled, his black friend and he fought in a monumental moment in their childhood, when the black boy slashed out at the Asian for being good, quiet, and over-achieving. We, as Asian immigrants, are taught by North American culture that our indigenous and black brothers and sisters are brass, rude, and lazy. That is changing (at least from what I’ve seen). In the troubled fabric of North American society, woven by immigration, colonization, and slavery, the colors of our humanity are blending with the blood of our ancestors. It’s not perfect, but it’s vibrant in the sun.

From the movie – Minari

People who know me in my youth knew me as a hopeless romantics who bought in way too much of the notion of “The one”, and who showers his love interests with needless affection and over-top-grand gesture. People who know me in my late twenties – early thirties knew me as a cynic who was tired of love and romantic love and all the cliche over-capitalized notion of love to sell more chocolate. People who know me now should know that I’m incredibly grateful to have found love, and it’s either of those things above.

Love is someone who accepts the difference in your culture, background, and politics and inspires you to do the same. Love is going to church on a Sunday even when you are a Buddhist. Love is celebrating Tet and all the weird childhood tradition of popping balloons in place of firecrackers. Love is wearing Ao dai for your wedding reception and learning to paint at the wedding. 

Love is when someone who incredibly loves comfort will force themselves out of the comfort zone to move across the country to support their partner’s career and mental health. Love is when they inspire you to tell them to take a job working for someone you profoundly disagree with. Love is when we trust enough to be apart knowing that we always will be together.

Love is hard work. Love is everyday work. Love is having and holding the space for sentences like this “I’m fucking mad at you but I love you and I will never let these things make me want to leave you”

Love is Sunday morning when one refuses to be up before 8 and one loves productivity.

Love is when one grows the garden and the other doom-scroll on the internet.

Love is embracing the differences, and learning to occupy the spaces in between.

Love is whenwe hug, the world stops, and I learn to breathe and everything will once again be ok.

So Happy Valentine’s Day. I guess. Although another thing you’ll find out about love is that you don’t need a day in the Western calendar that is heavily advertised by capitalists to embrace the people you love and be incredibly grateful for that.

So when I quit my job at a fast-growing start-up, after 3 years of solid struggling and after I finally hired a junior team member, and while we are growing both revenue and headcount, to join a much much smaller company, my boss said “Of course it makes sense for you. You are Pure Adventure”. Sitting number 2 at my motto/manifesto/value, it says “Growth and comfort do not co-exist”

2 weeks later when my partner got a call from a head hunter for a job that would put us literally at different coasts of Canada once Covid is stabilized and people are allowed in offices again, I told him to take the call. I helped him review the resume. I cheered him on during the interview process. I told him he could take the job. I know. #pureadventure

That’s life. As “young” people, I am inclined to believe we are stronger and our relationships are more resilient than physical distance, than political divides, than viruses and circumstances. I’m inclined to believe love and marriage doesn’t mean two halves sacrificing to becoming one; it’s two wholes supporting the crap out of each other to achieve infinity. Dreams can come true. Dreams do come true. And marrying the person of your dream doesn’t mean letting go of all the rest; it means leaning on them to realize all of your dreams.

So here we are. 36. The later half of my thirty. Yet the spirit of adventure, the desire for growth, and the unwavering determination to build my a life uncompromised for both me and the people I love remained. The kid at 18 who left Vietnam on a one way ticket; the kid at 21 who went to Philly with 2 suitcases in the middle of winter; the young man at 27 who came to Canada with 2 suitcases and a scholarship; those personas didn’t die. They matured and evolved and learned. 

I am proud of where I am today. Terrified of change and uncertainty, of course, but I choose to be fueled by that fear, by that discomfort. I choose to continue to grow, to love, to support the people around me with the privilege and the support that I have.

Because, sitting on number 1 on my manifesto/values list, is “It’s all about the people and compassionate leadership”.

So here we go. 2021. 36. Whatever life brings. Adventure awaits.

#pureadventures

I started a new job today. It’s an amazing feeling. The fear, the uncertainty, the challenges of starting something new in the middle of a pandemic. It’s exhilarating. I know I’m odd. But that’s in my nature to get out of my comfort zone and grow. 

The last 2 weeks at my old work has been great. People have been amazingly supportive. My boss, being absent and with flaws during my tenure there, has been nothing short of amazing in providing feedback, advice, and well wishes for my growth.

Sometimes when people grow, they grow apart. 

So, there’s no sugar-coating this, 2020 has been a clusterfuck of dumpster-fires. From the pandemic and delays to our major life goals, to my having shingles and had to miss work for 8 days, to our ceiling leaks with water, and a bird family lived in our vent. Small annoyances to life-altering life decisions. 2020 has been a year of anxiety, frustrations, and stagnation. 2020, at best, was a year of being inside and feeling stuck and miserable; and at its worst, a year of watching the ourside world tear itself apart with racial injustice, political instability, and overall fuckary and descend into dictatorships. 

Yet, as 2020 is coming to a close, I can’t help but being grateful for the year that I had. 

2020 was a year of growth and soul searching when it comes to my career. As we are close to finishing one of the major flagship products of the company, and our hiring continues after 6-month freeze, I question my place and my growth path at the company. It is counter intuitive that when we boast a new investment fund, an impressive increase in 50 headcounts, and a promotion for my boss, that I decided that it was about time for me to move on. Sometimes, a business can grow tremendously and you can’t find a place in it. I’m starting a new role, in a much smaller, much earlier stage start up in the new year. And as terrifying and anxious as it is, leaving a comfy job in the middle of a pandemic for another job in Ontario, I’m extremely excited about the challenges that the new environment and the new role will bring

2020 was a year that we are forced to be inside, a lot, with very few people. And thanks to it, I know, that I have married the best possible person to be stuck with, for my whole life. Sure we argue over silly stuff and sure I’d rather he woke up a bit earlier in the morning and made me more motivated about worknig out, but being stuck with him for the whole year had been, at times amazing, and mostly pleasant. He is kind, and loving, and supportive of all my insanity and anxiety. But most of all, he is calm under pressure and adaptive under challenges. 

2020 was also a year that I’m forced to be stuck with one of the most challenging person in my life: my self. Sitting with myself has been hard. Being with myself have been hard. There were times when I literally ran out of the house, ran for 8 km. There were times when I lie on the floor, Grey Anatomy’s style, out of the sheer depression and emoness of it all. There were time when I literally just cry for no reason. And then I got up the next day, delivered a contact tracing app, 3 firmware releases, and 5 million revenue in hardware products. Functioning depression is the hardest kind of struggle, because it is so invisible to everyone, and it can get ever so lonely. 

2020 was a year of new skills. I learned to bake, mixology, to garden, to soulder hardware boards. 2020 was a year of familiar meditations: painting, running, hiking. 

2020 was a year of old friends. Jia En came to Canada! We whatsapp across 4 countries more often than most year. We talked about the wedding and how fortunate we are to have the wedding pre-pandemic. We realized we don’t have a lot of people and friends in our life. We realized the ones we have are absolutely precious and amazing to us.

Remember this? Remember people in one place celebrating things?

So 2020 was a mixed bag of emotions and a rollercoaster of a lifetime challenge. I think we came out ok. I think I came out a bit more sure of myself and what I can do. I think I came out a bit more sure of us, me and Dan, and even Chester, Jen, Alex, Drax and Lincoln, and what we can do as a family. 

The pandemic doesn’t follow Western calendar. 2021 is just a number. I suspect, aside from our renewed sense of hope and renewed faith in the human resilience, nothing would have changed.

But hey, if I can go into 2021 with a renewed sense of hope and a renewed faith in my own resiliency, maybe it would have been worth it.

Happy New Year!!!

In my anxiety-induced restlessness, there are always two versions of me. One that is restless, self-deprecating, and hating about the fact that I am falling behind. There is another, kinder, softer, but the more resilient voice I’d like you to hear from. It’s a whisper of how far we have come. The road has been long, and slow, and hard at times, but it was a road of many many often forgotten successes. I want to never lose sight of that.

I was the first to get a university degree in my generation, and still, the first (potentially the only) who has a Master’s degree. The fact that both degrees come from prestigious universities in Singapore and in Canada made that a bit more challenging, and a bit more rewarding.

I was the first Vietnamese in 6 years of NUS Entrepreneurship program in the US, and one of the selected 12 from hundreds of applications. I had 2 promotions in 3 years in Singapore. I became a Project Manager at the age of 27. I am now a Director of Software Engineering, at the age of 35. 

As I handed in my resignation to my current role, my boss, still in shock, said, “You are an adventurous guy. So this choice made sense for you. There is no universe in which you won’t be successful.”

Truth be told, I am very anxious about what is coming up next. I am moving to Ontario in a pandemic, to a much smaller start up firm with a smaller team. I am taking my partner and my family with me, leaving behind our comfortable home and our comfortable life in a comfortable role. I am terrified. And when I look up, at my value statement, I see this.

“Growth and comfort do not co-exist”

No one knows what the future holds. Many stories of greatness start with failures and humble beginnings and tremendous risks. Many many untold stories also have risks like these.

But I’m not afraid. Restless, but not afraid. As long as my supportive partner is with me, and I can still type and program and work with people, I will be alright.

I might even be the next CTO / CPO / CEO of a tech company. Because sometimes, with enough struggles and hard work and humility and risks taking, dreams might come true afterall.

 “What’s terrifying about praying is the loneliness of it. You show more faith praying for your first time more than any nuns. It’s so terrifying to sit alone by yourself in that silence” – Mary Karr

I will never pretend that my life right now is not in a place of privilege. Considering where I came from, I am an able-bodied married man and a global project manager who has a full-time job and a shelter during the global pandemic. I will not pretend that I am not forever grateful for that privilege. 

Yet, just like the rest of the world in 2020, the pandemic has put a lot of our lives on hold, exaggerated, and exacerbate many of my anxieties and restlessness. Career ceilings and roadblocks. Racial injustice. Our adoption. 

I feel lost. I always somehow had directions in my life, either by people telling me what I should do, or people telling me what I could never achieve (and so I did it anyway just to spite them). It’s just an absolute silence with many rejections right now. 

I felt like the people are telling me “We wanted to find a unicorn. You look like it and you sound like it. But we would like to find a unicorn with a bigger horn.” They wanted someone with my skillsets and experience but with way more experience and years of practicing it, without giving me the opportunity to practice it. 

And so I pray and I pray and I pray

Not for something to be given to me for free. Not for something to be bestowed upon me because I deserve it.

I pray for a direction. Just tell me what to do. Tell me what is the right thing to do. So I can do it and commit to it and put it 100% like I always do in my life. 

I arrived at the privileged position I have today because I have always had an internal compass that drives me forward. 

I wanted to go to Singapore because I wanted a better advanced-education. I left for Philadelphia because I wanted to learn and know about entrepreneurship and work in a start-up. I went to Canada because I want to be out and be authentic and be married. 

I know I want to create products. I know I want to become a CTO in my lifetime of a tech company. I thought I knew how to get there. But I’m feeling incredibly restless and fearful that the past years I have spent on the wrong steps in the wrong direction. I can course correct. I will put in the work. I just don’t know where to start and I don’t have many 3-5 years cycle left to explore all the wrong directions.

And so I pray and I pray and I pray

Not for something free. Just for the opportunity to earn it.

This new blog begins with a love letter

We start in 2020, the year of the pandemic, with rising infections and death, and stupidity of people who don’t believe in the virus. The global economy, and Alberta’s, severely struggled after the pandemic and the crash of oil prices, once again. The US is tearing itself apart south of the border. Our provincial government is taking away people’s safety net, privatizing healthcare, firing 11000 people during a pandemic, in exchange for the corporate tax cut. And that’s just the last 3 months. 

So, against that backdrop, I want to dedicate this writing to my loved ones, and to hope.

In 2020 I became Canadian. And, even with the unfulfilled promises, and yet to be fulfilled potentials, Canada has become my home. In the pandemic, and in the global reawakening of racial injustices, Canada has (mostly) responded in a way that is competent and comforting. Of course, living in Alberta, I’ve encountered a fair amount of people who are on “the wrong side of history”, but they are not the loudest voice. And even in their ignorance, I feel safe to be authentic and share my view, because of the legal framework and freedom this country allows. I was lucky to have kept my job during the pandemic. And seeing the programs in place to protect people, and options for us should anything happens. It is comforting and calming.

In 2019, I married the perfectly imperfect Canadian that is meant for me. We do not have a perfect relationship (never had). He is not my best friend (because only Betty-white women-marry their best friends. That title in my heart is reserved for a very argumentative Bruneian woman. Also, most of my very good friends are very argumentative WOC. Coincidence?). Yet time and time again, against the odds, in our very loud and passionate arguments, we found our way. He learned and he evolved. I learned and I evolved. We continue learning and evolving. It is not a perfect partnership, but it creates a perfect condition for us to challenge each other and grow. We were sitting in the car, and we said “I believe in us”. Even if we have to live apart for a bit due to the career situation, or the pandemic situation, I believe we will find a way to continue to grow together”.

In 2020, my uncles and aunt told the aforementioned person “Welcome to the family”. No dramatic coming out story. No tears or drama. Just that. In the promised land, it’s not the emotional labor of the minority to ask for acceptance. The law, the culture, and the people create the condition for the people to learn. And when they do, wonderful things happen. Like bún bò and ice cream and family photos with mixed-race nephews and nieces and grandchild.

“Mảnh đất giữ chân một người khi nơi đó nằm xuống một người thân, hay đang sống một người mà mình yêu thương” – paraphrasing Lý Lan

So here it is, to new beginning and old fears, to new challenges and old friends, we will get through this together.

And even if we don’t, even if the world is to end, I know I have lived a life that fulfills my promises and an earnest attempt to fulfill my potentials.