My prayers to the universe get more confusing by the day. The world that I live in is complex, messy, imperfect, and at times utterly overwhelming.
I am grateful for my life. I am grateful for my family, my friends, and the safe and peaceful country and welcoming community that I live in.
Yet, at the same time, I could not help but wonder. “What if I wasn’t gay? What if I was white? What if my parents were upper middle class, or not Vietnamese? Could I have gotten further than I have now? Would I move faster in my life if I wasn’t set back by my immigration, by my background?”
I am grateful for my career. I am grateful to have met Jeffrey, Elise, Gerard, Sean, Nav, and countless other mentors who have helped me shape a career that is unique to me. I am grateful for the opportunities that have come my way.
Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder, how far could I have come without my baggage of a queer brown immigrant? A CEO asked me casually over conversation “Why didn’t you apply for that CTO role? Sounded like it was up your alley.” – “I did throw my hat in the ring, actually. They wanted someone with more… I guess … gravitas.” I know. Gravitas. As my HR friend put it “Because you are not a pompous arrogant asshole, babe”
I am grateful as I am getting older. Forty. In a few months. I still think the 30s were the best decade of my life (so far). I am proud of the man I’ve become. I am proud of my accomplishments. I am mostly thankful for having made enough money to afford my mental health care, my therapy, and my Lego (among other frivolous expenses).
Yet, as the window of the “Forty under forty” title drastically closes (my coworkers got it a few years back), I couldn’t help but wonder, “What more could I have done? How much harder must I have worked so the world notices?”
I am grateful. I am grateful for my peace, my privileges, and my ability to afford mortgage groceries, and gas. Yet, as the world burns and quickly descends into fascism around us, is that gratefulness selfish?
Life’s hard. Maybe I’ll go lie down and curl up a little.
Read this on the internet: “To ensure you don’t cram up from curling up on 8the floor for too long, get up and scream like a banshee out of your windows for 5 minutes every hour”
Just like the first snowfall, Thanksgiving comes much earlier in Canada than in the US. The timing is appropriate, too, I think, as the Fall is a great time to reflect and be thankful for the things we have in the first half of the year.
2024 has been a weird whirlwind year. Many things have happened. Puppy. Career changes. Hot boys summer. Life came at us fast and furious, and I had to admit, there was no shortage of moments of anxiety and self-doubt about the future.
That’s why, this year, I am extra thankful. I am thankful for the life I had/I am having. I am thankful for my love, my friends, my co-workers (old and new), and Canada (flawed and all). I am thankful for my health, for my stability, and for the peace and kindness we get to experience here.
As I inch ever so closer to the big 4-0, I couldn’t help but be more reflective than usual. The past 20 years have been hard. There were so many heartbreaks. I broke some hearts, too. The wake of a nomad trail from Vietnam to Singapore to the US and finally here, in Canada, was never easy. But I am thankful.
I do prefer an easier life (who wouldn’t?), but in the absence of that, I am thankful for the resiliency that I possess and the loving support of those I came across in my life.
So, happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving, friends. I didn’t name names because you know who you are (and yes, that includes you Marcus Lane) and there are so many of you. Know that I am thankful, and I love all of you.
I have to be honest I didn’t expect to be back to the bachelor lifestyle (staying in a one-bedroom apartment, cooking simple meals or microwaving frozen meals, taking a bus to and from work, etc.) at the age of 40; but here we are, 3 weeks after my new job in Edmonton.
The good thing about super-commuting is that I have a lot of time to myself. I could work. I could read. I could play games on steams. But most importantly, I get to reflect on the week, the month, and the life that I have. Obviously, I am super grateful (and I am super lucky) that I am here, so I won’t bore you with more of that. Instead, I want to share some observations I have about myself: what has changed (and not changed) over the years for me. It’s an exercise of stepping outside of myself to observe myself at work (and in life) in general, and it’s quite fun to see some of these things. So, come, step into my office
I am still that kid who left Vietnam for Singapore, who left Singapore for Philly, who left the US for Canada, etc. I can still go to a new place, learn all the bus routes, cook my own meals, and figure my shit out all by myself. I can be in a new job, in a new industry, in a new city, and feel like I belong 2 weeks in the job. I still have this sense of adventure, of wonder, and the “err on the side of action” attitude. The married life is wonderful and complete, but it’s nice to know that the comfort of that life hasn’t taken me away from my ability to “just pack up and go”. (However, I am not sure I can survive being super poor again, though. TBD on that.)
I am still the guy who “gets shit done”. 3 weeks in, I have helped create a launch plan for a much-delayed project, I have put together a plan to launch our performance measurement system and make meaningful connections with stakeholders and teams. It’s funny, in my last job, I was being denied promotions or growth opportunities because “You are very good at your job and delivering results, but you need to be more strategic.” (Coincidentally, the people who got promoted never seemed to really delivered on anything, just big strategy talk) This is an environment where I am starting to feel my ability to get shit done will get a lot of street creds for me to push the strategic initiatives forward.
People are still at the core of my values and the first thing on my list of “How I contribute meaningfully to this organization”. I was able to identify the superstars, the rockstars (and the laggards) in a short time here. Curiosity (with a dash of humor) is still my strongest skill. I was able to have open, candid conversations, and gather amazing insights from the people around me. There are a lot of challenges ahead, some of them seem monumental; but I feel as long as I have the people elements with me, I’ll be able to accomplish a lot here.
So here are a few things that changed:
Confidence. I have heard that word more than three times from three different people I met. “We just need some leadership to drive this initiative forward. It’s nice to have someone like you with the confidence to do it” – Direct quote. Maybe they are blowing smoke up my ass because I am the new VP. But I have to say, it is refreshing to see myself as a confident, competent (maybe a tad cocky/bossy). I have never been that guy. “Channel your inner mediocre white man”, I guess. The funny thing is, I don’t think I do it on purpose. I did have the understanding and the experience under my belt. I’ve seen this and I’ve solved these challenges before. The only difference is, I have the voice now and I have the confidence to say it, with volume.
Optimism. Some call it fearlessness. Some call it foolishness. But I think having a sense of optimism to know you can accomplish certain things, no matter how hard, uncertain, or ridiculous it might sound to some people, is critically important in leadership. I actually didn’t realize I possessed this until my last boss pointed it out to me. The cynics are often right about life. The optimists often get things done. Maybe it’s that foolishness that is giving me confidence. And maybe as a person with excessive amount of anxiety, optimism is a gift to counter-balance the weight of all the little things that could go wrong with “the plan”. I know everything will go wrong at the worst possible time. But I know no matter how many things go wrong, I will arrive at the final right destination. That’s optimism. Right?
“Zaddiness”. I don’t know what to call it, the “joie de vie”, the “je ne sais quoi”, the mix of this weird impossible lightness of meeting new people and speaking to them from a position of authority, expertise, and charm. (I know I sound like an arrogant prick now, but hear me out). I mean it cannot be a coincidence that my (female) new co-worker proclaimed “I love your personality!”, or your developers told HR people “They crept your profile and they were so glad we brought someone like you onboard”. I mean I was even hit on on Social media by 20-year-olds. As the great Pedro Pascal said “Daddy is a state of mind”
I guess it’s too early to tell if this feeling will last. Maybe it’s just the newness and the excitement of it all. Maybe it’s my brain’s coping mechanism for the stress of the new job. Honestly, I am working longer hours and harder than I have in the past years, but I am having fun. And maybe, just maybe, these positive changes can carry over outside of the job, beyond the title and the nice office, into my life, and my general attitude about life, relationship, aging, and my overall well-being and awesomeness.
(Although VP Era does have a better ring to it than Zaddy Era, which just sounds perverted and old)
With the arrival of September, (Canadian) summer is considered to be over, and with it, my hot boys’ summer. Is it, like the notorious Jason Kenney said, “the best summer ever”? Not quite. However, it’s quite an epic one. For that, I am grateful. As I am disembarking on a new (and somewhat exciting/terrifying) chapter of my life and my career today, I’d like to take a look back and “count my blessings” on the great things that happened this summer.
This is the summer of family. This is probably the summer when we, as a family, made a conscious effort to spend a lot of time together. Mochi, the mischievous puppy, helped. Also, our multiple trips to assist with mom and Grandma kinda brought us together. This year, for the first time since 2020, I was able to visit my uncle, aunt, and cousins in Montreal.
This is the summer I embrace “hot boys” / “brat” mentality. People who know me know I struggled with my body image and self-love. For the first time in a long time (ironically as close to being 40 as I am), I feel confident, and content, with where I am at in terms of my health and my appearance. That might change. That might not. Maybe I am like bourbon, getting darker and better as I age. Who knows. All I know is that I am content and grateful with myself, which is more than I have ever had most of my twenties. #daddies.
This summer I reconnected with a lot of close friends, colleagues, mentors, mentees, board games nerds, etc. I was able to be there for some friends over some big milestones (new house, health scare, moving, divorce). I was able to reconnect and meaningfully be present with them. It’s so refreshing, and soul-fulfilling, to be able to do that.
This summer I took a break. Like truly took a break. I took 3 weeks off in June for my mental health/physical health. I took August off to transition between jobs. It has been great for my health, and mostly my mind. Of course, it’s terrifying to leap into the unknown, and to take a break while I’m generally more comfortable being productive/workaholic, it was truly good for me and my soul. I am so grateful to be able to afford the privilege to do that. In this break, I completed Arts projects (3, to be exact).
I grew and took care of a beautiful (scaled-down) flower garden
Most importantly, this summer, I get to be with the people I love, and I get to sit with myself. I got what I wanted. I got out of a toxic, stressful environment. I set myself up for my career goals before I turn 40. I surrounded myself with the people I love and care about. This summer, as with any other time in the past 10 years, I truly truly appreciate the exceptional life partner that I have.
Things are uncertain, and I’m a bit anxious about the future (as I am). Yet, I want to express how eternally grateful I am for where I am today, who I am today and the people I am with.
To leave you with this post, and to close an epic “hot boys’ summer”, I leave you with my favourite quote from a show.
I’ve never been a dancer, but I do know joy. I’ve never been the one who waited, but I do know things will eventually turn out fine. I’ve never been the one who likes the darkness, but I know the darkest nights bring the brightest dawn.
I have never been a clubber. Bright lights, loud music, and beautiful people have never been “my scene”. But as we danced during Market Day in Chicago, I found myself at the center of a small dance floor and actually enjoyed it. On the first day, there was a young man who reached his hands out, and I danced with him and his friends. My friend said, “still got it”. And I laughed to myself. “I have never had … got it”. In my younger days, I never went clubbing, and when I did I stuck to the walls. My hair was long and messy. I wore clothes 2 sizes too big. I never knew how to dance. Maybe it’s the aging. Maybe it’s the confidence aging brings. I’m too old to be bullied by the voices in my head. I’m too old to spend more time hiding by the wall, sticking to the cliche definitions of who is allowed to be in the center of attention. Sometimes, even a wallflower can bloom.
This year, I am doing something unprecedented. I have taken August off. “Self-funded sabbatical”, I call it. During this time, I have done some exciting things. I traveled and visited some of my extended family, and my really close friends, including my first career mentors in Philadelphia. I’ve created art. I’ve gone hiking several times. I’ve learned some new things and even built some software projects in the Basement Lab. I’ve even dared call it “hot boys summer”. This is probably the most selfish, self-centered, and the most radical act of self-love I have ever done. I have always gone from one job to another (I even worked while I was studying). I have always been about taking care of others first. I have always been one that is responsible, that is with the plan. Not this summer. This summer is brat. And when the wallflower blooms, the walls don’t fall apart. The strong foundation that we built didn’t crumble. Instead, we found joy. We found togetherness. And I found myself surrounded by people that I love, that built me up, that acknowledged the beauty of everything that I’ve been through.
Some days I have to pinch myself. How did I get so lucky?
I mean there was a lot of heartbreak and hard work involved, don’t get me wrong. But how many of us have the chance, and the privilege, to come out of those heartbreak and hard work with what we’re hoping for.
I’m in a loving, committed, and enduring marriage. I’m coming to a job in September that I’m actually excited (and anxious) about. I have friends everywhere in the world who know my story and know me. We’re living in a country where our rights are not being threatened by the next election. We’re living in peace and I’m in good health (for a 40-year-old, anyways).
The thing about wallflowers is that they are most comfortable by the walls, and I will be back to that soon enough. It’s just nice to know that I can and still do bloom in a while.
Like my friends lovingly called it, I “still got it”.
I am taking a few weeks away from work (for medical reasons) to focus on myself and my recovery. It is a strange concept, really, to step away from work and just focus on myself. I wasn’t raised like that. My mom worked all the way until she had Chester and decided to stay home to take care of the two of us (which is a 1.5 full-time job, really). My dad took on extra work to support 2 sons studying overseas. In our culture and our life, work is “ethics”, work is a part of our identity, and work is how a capitalistic society views and evaluates us. So, to not work to take care of yourself is not only inherently selfish but a strange and unacceptable practice.
So, what am I doing during this break? I’ve been gardening. I’ve been painting. I’ve been calling people and talking to them. I even dared plan for the summer.
There has been a lot of talk and anxiety about AI lately. I couldn’t help but wonder, when (not if, when) AI can replace us for our work, what, then, will be our worth? What, then, will make us human?
As I was painting, I could feel the strokes of the brush against the canvas. I could see all the imperfections. I could step back, think, admire, frown, and make corrections, and make it worse. When I garden, I would feel the breeze. I could learn the angle of sunshine vs the time of day vs the duration of sunlight vs the soil ratio, etc. Sure a machine can do all that. Sure a machine can do all that better. With advancement in robotics and AI, a machine can paint perfection, can garden mass quantity crops.
Can a machine have the self-awareness of its own brokenness? Can machine learning teach machines to be inspired to learn, and not optimize based on a pre-determined goal?
It’s sad and comforting, really, to realize what made me human, specifically in my case, is my acute awareness of my own brokenness. What made me human, is my ability to see my flaws and my reckless desire to be better, all the time.
And so, I guess, to be able to step away from work, to ignore the work ethics and the identity of a salaried man, after all, is a rebellion act of being fucking human.
Last week when Dan was sick, I took a Grab bike instead of a car or taxi to go see my friends. It felt nice sitting on a bike, while the wind and the crazy traffic twirl around you with the chaotic harmony that you can only feel in Saigon. I mean I can still ride a motocycle (knowing direction or where to go, though, is an entirely different question.) The rhythm on Vietnam, the beach, and the people, I have missed them so.
The fact is, just like Vietnam, I’m an “in between” state of being. The country is changing rapidly but it’s hanging in to its traditions and its heritage. I’m changing and evolving but I want to stay true to who I am. The country wants to grow and change but its many flawed tendencies are holding it back. I want to grow and change but my insecurities and my fear are sometimes holding me back. The country is inherently good, with good people and rich traditions and so so much potentials, yet it’s held back by so many old ways of doing things.
I’m reminded of why I needed to leave. We still feel small, and chaotic, and hyper noisy. We will treat women and minority groups poorly. People still try to take advantage of other people in “khôn lỏi” way, as if poverty is a good excuse to take advantage of others. People prioritized money and wealth over connection and compassion. The government. These challenges are not unique to us, not at all, it’s just incredibly hard for me to feel like I belong here, that I can thrive here.
“I’m sure you feel like it’s lovely to be home, that these traditions and friends you meet are so good, and now it’s time to leave since you can’t live here any more. I feel the same whenever I come back to my hometown” – Loan.
Yet, I know, and everyone around me know, that I’m a Vietnamese at heart, that you can take a boy out of Vietnam, but you can’t take Vietnam out of a man. This place made me who I am. This place, with all its flaws, built my character, my resiliency, my compassion, and my view of the world. This place, with all its people, some bad, lots of good, but most of all that is brimming with creativity, with ways of solving problems, and most of all just ways of surviving, built my world view and my skillset. But, perhaps, most important of all, this place gives me stories. Stories are the most human thing about us. My stories are the most human thing about Vietnam for me.
It’s hard, to feel like you are not welcome in a place. It’s even harder, to feel like you don’t belong in a place. But I think, is the hardest, at this point in my life, to know that I am welcome (or at least tolerated) in a place, but I no longer being there. Belonging is a tricky thing.
So, what now? What’s next? Am I ready to leave again? I have a Canadian passport now, but I couldn’t help but wonder, am I welcomed the? Do I belong there? After all, you can take a boy out of Vietnam (well, he left) but can anyone ever take Vietnam out of his state of in betweens.
This year, with everything that is happening at work and with the puppy, I have not spent as much time thinking about aging and being underachieving in my life.
I mean, with the things that are going on in my job & my carreer, I have come to term with not being on any “40 under 40” lists. I’m contented where I am at. I know that content is the enemy of great. But the pursue of greatness, at least right now, is the enemy of my mental health. So I think I’ll take a bit of a pass, re-assess, and maybe get on a “great just barely before he dies” list.
As a queer man over 30, I have also came to term with being invisible, being forgotten, and being discounted by the men in my community. I have come to term with aging, with insecurity, and with rejection. I’m confortable with the skin I’m in. Comfortable is nice. As I’m barreling towards my 40s, I think I’ve learned to be a bit kinder to myself, to my aching knees and thinning hair, to my failing hearing and fuzzy memories, and to my insecurities that no one will look at me the same way.
As a Buddhist, we are taught about aging, about death, and about impermanent very early. Yet, the hardest part is the yearning. The hardest part is the hoping for more.
And so I guess my 39th birthday wish for myself is patience, to be with all the stillness and chaos, to continue moving forward with grace and with joy, with the people I love most, but mostly, to be ok with myself. Let the last year of my 30s be one that I will come to term with aging with grace and living with joy.
“But the truth I learned here is, you had to leave because you’re you. I liked you for who you are; and who you are is a person who leaves. But for him, you’re the person who stays” – Past lives
After a grueling 32-hour flight with 2 layovers, we are finally back in Vietnam. It’s been more than 5 years since we last came home. This time, I’m coming back as a Canadian, passport & all. It feels strange. To be a foreigner in a place you were born and raised.The past few weeks has been a whirlwind, mostly at work. It was the kind of tumulus times that makes one question one’s career choices and their past turns in this careers. It was the kind of time that makes are wonder “What even is the point anymore?”. Nothing is certain. There maybe nothing left to return to anymore. “We have a good life, though, right?” Dan asks. And we do. And I am grateful.
And I am reminded that anytime anything good ever happened in my life, that is because I have been the one who leaves. I left behind Vietnam because I wanted a better education and opportunity for myself. I left Singapore because I wanted a life that is authentic. I left the US because I wanted to be an immigrant who are welcome and felt like I belong. I left several jobs because I wanted to grow, to challenge myself, and to be taken seriously. I have always been the one who leaves.
Yet, I have always wanted to be the one who belongs. I wanted to stay. Everytime I’m back, I felt this sense of belonging, of nostalgia, of roots, and of context.I’m also reminded of why I needed to leave. So, a few weeks break and surrounding myself with family, with friends, with traditions and childhood memories and with delicious food, might be good for the soul.
And maybe, just maybe, of all the lives I could have had of all the possibilities, the one life I have now, challenging and chaotic and all, may be the best and the one life I will ever had.
What’s with all this “New Year. New You” bs? I mean, what’s wrong with the old one? I mean, he’s not great but he’s doing his best. Okay. How about “New year, just slightly improved you” and a lot less anxious about how to continuously optimize ourselves like some sort of vague capitalism concept?
Here to all the yous version of you every day. Hang in there.
We don’t have to put all our selves on discount or renew every single year/day.
Pace Fine Arts 