We got news on Thursday that our Professor for my master’s program has passed away. Cancer. As messages were pouring in on Linked In, and then Facebook, and then the journals that I used to read/contribute to, I couldn’t help but think “It’s not what you say about yourself (in front of you or behind your back) when you are around. It’s what they say about you when you are dead.”

Here’s a photo I took of him in the fall of 2013. He was one of my first Canadian people. He accepted me to his lab under his supervision. He gave me my first part-time job. He was a teacher, a mentor, an employer, and at times, a friend. He was data-obsessed and meticulous, and he would correct my funky writing to the last character (for all 6 of my publications and my thesis). Maybe it was a German thing, but he was obsessed with measurements and trade-offs in product management. Whenever I said I worked in decision-making, another professor/student would lovingly laugh “Oh, Guenther”

And of course, as with careers and life, we lost touch after I graduated. I tried to keep in touch. In fact, I was the fifth author of one of the publications that his Ph.D. student wrote. That was just who he was, always thinking and helping his students. And that was just how life was, we lost touch with the people we know, chasing after a pre-defined path “society” has for us.

“Every day, we are living as source materials of the eulogy for people who love us”

It’s probably a morbid thought. But that’s what I thought to myself during a funeral. It’s someone we know from church. She was 80 and had an amazing, well-lived, and courageous life. She was surrounded by children, grandchildren, friends, and the community she built and was a part of. 

As a Buddhist, I have a comfortable relationship with death. Death doesn’t scare me. Obviously, I don’t want to die and I’m not ready to die, but death as an abstract concept is very comforting and very mundane to me. It’s quiet in the chaos. It’s the leaving instead of struggling. It’s “abandon all hope”

Yet, I could not help but wonder, what will be in my eulogy? I often romanticize my life, my romance, and yes, oftentimes, my death. Alas, I hang out with STEM people and very unromantic individuals. Also, the fact that I live in Canada, away from my family in Vietnam, away from most of my friends in Singapore, and the US, and we have no children, doesn’t really help. 

“When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around, do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?” – Dear Evan Hansen

I hope my life at least made a ripple in someone else’s. I hope my work and my effort and my struggles inspire someone. I hope, at least, me being gay and brown and successful (and may I dare say, happy) provide some hope and bright spots for someone whom I do not know. I hope, even without a eulogy, people know and remember me as “one of the good ones”. Afterall, you don’t know how you are remembered when you are dead. Funerals and eulogies are for the living.

What will be in your eulogy?

P.S. This is my go-to funeral poem. I’d appreciate it if anyone remember and read it at my funeral 🙂 

My father moved through dooms of love – E. E. Cummings

…

Lifting the valleys of the sea
my father moved through griefs of joy;
praising a forehead called the moon
singing desire into begin

joy was his song and joy so pure
a heart of star by him could steer

…

In my feverish dream state of half awake and half hallucination (for the past 5 days), I reflected on the last time I had a severe sickness like this. Funny enough, it was exactly 8 years ago, 3 weeks before my birthday. I can confidently say that, in the past 8 years, the consistent improvement has been being in love with and getting married to Dan. Don’t get me wrong, there were a lot of ups and downs, and the downs almost felt like we wouldn’t make it, but we persevered. I suppressed every of my whim to self-sabotage and run and escape and never come back. He listens and adjusts and he changes a little bit at a time. 8 years ago, I took the train and checked myself into Urgent Care. I talked to the nurse. I took the IV and the tests (for 6-8 hours) and then took the train home and went to bed. I was too embarrassed (well, scared, really) to burden a person I just started dating. This Monday, as he drove me to the Urgent Care at the hospital I was only half-awake, barely forming coherent words, as he explained my condition to the nurses and the doctors, and as he took me home, made me food, and got me my prescriptions; I could not help but feel grateful. Maybe I’m aging. Maybe this is a more severe case than before. But I could not have done all this by myself this time.

As cliche as it sounds, you have to be ready to be loved for a love like this. I was recently out of a long-term relationship back then and initially was dating a series of (lovely) people that wasn’t a good fit for me. So I started self-discovery. I did a bunch of things. And I met this guy through the most random of chances. About 5 months in, I lost my phone and me being the idiot that I was, did not store his contacts on the clouds. So I went back to the random place we met, again and again, and waited for him to come on. And he replied. He found me funny. He found my aspirations for a sch-orphanage in Vietnam inspiring. We enjoyed having food and hanging out. And the rest is history

I don’t think this has to be just for romantic relationships either. It’s always precious in life to have a parent, a sibling, a friend, or a neighbor. Someone you can call at night if you needed and you know they will show up. It’s so so so rare in this vast human-digital world we’re living in. The key though, and this will sound harsh, is that you need to be ready to do that for them too. People can only give so much, and you need to allow them to share their challenges, their struggles, and allow them to call you when they need. If not you’re just an emotional energy vampire. 

I don’t know what the point of this note is. Perhaps after 5 days of 38-39 degrees fever, and mostly incoherent words coming out from my mouth, I just needed to show myself I can still think and write normally. Perhaps I’ve listened to way more Lizzo and seriously her song 2 be love played in my head the entire fever-dreams I had the second day. 

Or maybe I’m just really really really grateful to be loved.

“Wherever you go, there you are”

In recent meditations about life, career, and friendships, it is becoming increasingly clear that I’m the shared problem in all my problems. No, not the “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem it me” kind of problem. If anything, it’s the opposite of that. In the effort to not be the Anti-Hero (i.e. a total asshole), I am often the hinderer of my own “progress” in life, career, and friendships.

In looking at all these gorgeous people on the internet (Instagram, mostly, which has been very bad for my mental health) and their relationships, their children, and their gorgeous friend groups who dress up for Halloween as a group or travel together as a group, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is wrong with me? In a cynical way, the problem is me. These people are gorgeous. They are outgoing. They love sports. They love spending time meeting others. I just want to stay at home and read. 25 minutes drive up north is too far for me. 

I remember a time in my life when I used to have friends and social circles. And that is mostly just universities. Easy access to community, public transit, and also the general lack of exhaustion from work. I had more time and flexibility in my life. And overall energy. Even then, I was often depressed and isolated. I really didn’t find belonging anywhere. 

I’ve read more and more articles about the life and career of (the now Oscar nominated) Ke Huy Quan. 40 years. He spent 40 years struggling, waiting for a role, for an opportunity, to even be working. “Only thing that separates women of colour from anyone else is opportunity” – Viola Davis. I’m at the point in my life where I feel I’m never going to be a part of any board rooms. I’m never going to be a part of any close knit friend groups. I’m never going to be a part of a sports club (can’t play sports), arts club (can’t sing/dance/performe), and fun clique (can’t do a high school mean girls thing). And I think the problem is more than skin deep. It’s not race/sexuality/background. People loves talking about diversity and inclusion, as long as the “diverse” people they want to “include” are extroverts who want to pound table and talk endlessly in meetings about themselves. 

And so here we are. There I am. Wherever I go.

But I’m learning to slowly be ok with it. In the few opportunities that ever came in my life, they have all turned into amazing life-long connection.

A girl that I met by chance, across a long dining hall table in Singapore, has become a 20-year-long friendship. I hope to see her this year, Ms Kelly Chan.

A mentor, a boss who had taken a chance on a young Vietnamese intern and gave him a chance to become a software engineer in a tech start up, and now a life long friend, Elise.

A man who took a chance encounter and drove 20 minutes each eay to see me, has become a friend, a companion, a love of my life for the past 8 years, my hubby Dan. 

A random encounter in a tech conference in San Francisco, a completely different personality and person, that has now become a friend, a confidant, and potentially a life long friendship (and a frequent updates on white women in pop culture) Marcus. 

Very few has invited me to the table. Very few has welcomed me as I am. Loud and obnoxious at times. Quiet and introverted at times. Sometimes caring, sometimes selfish, mostly stubborn.

So I guess I have a few less fun updates on Instagram, and I will never get a C in front of my job title, and my friends and family can be counted by fingers (and none of them have abs); but they are enough. They are more than enough.

I am enough. I am more than enough.

I am grateful for my life. I just need to be less ungrateful to myself and the life I have had. 

It’s very very far from picture perfect, but it’s pretty damn worth being grateful for.

 (Cautiously) Pacing Forward

As more and more people are posting 2022 photos and memories and the online life they presented for themselves, I can’t help but feeling, what’s the word, hopeful. People who know me know I do not do New Year resolutions (They fail usually at the Jan 15th mark and they are all undue pressure on your mental health). But there are some learning that I will apply this year.

Time, energy, and priority: I do have a tendency to be people pleaser. Growing up, coming out, and even working in corporate setting, I am subjected to FOMO and I often lean towards people please. What makes it worse is, even with friends and acquaintants, I will try and try and try to schedule time with them when they are just simply “busy”. This year, I want to focus on the people who makes time, who shows up, who prioritizes me. I often feel bad (and cold) to think if someone doesn’t add values to your life and you let them go. But as I grew older, I realize more and more (and maybe my work and my SVP has kinda shown me too), that the people you chose to keep in your circles are the people that shape you

Travel: This year is my 20th friend-niversary with Kelly. On our 10th year we went to Hawaii. I really wanted to meet her somewhere this year, probably Switzerland, a land that I’ve been wanting to go and never find the time/money/companion combo to go with. It’s about time I get home to Vietnam too. I don’t know how we will fit all our travel plans in, with the limited amount of time, and vacation days that I have. But intention often shapes reality

Remember to breathe: I need to slow down and show compassion for myself. I often put a lot of pressure on myself to keep moving forward. I really wanted that promotion this year. But looking back at my career, and my life, for that matter, it’s never been a linear line. Every rejection opened a door to something else entirely different and arguably more wonderful. Being rejected to exchange at Standford opened up UPenn and let me meet my mentor Elise. Things not workng out with Oren lead me to Dan. Being rejected for mobile app dev at Blackline kicked me into Ontario role. Who knows what this year brings. My life goes in 3 years cycle of a sine looking wave. If that is any prediction, it will get way worse this year before it gets any better. But we will see. 

If the pandemic has taught us anything, it is that life is unpredictable. It also has taught us that humans fall right back to our old ways, our fallacy, and we gravitate towards our worst tendencies. This year, I want to be intentional, kind, and mindful about the things that I will do, and we will keep moving forward. Not upward, forward.

Happy New Year

(This is the first part of a year end two-parter: Year in review + looking ahead) 

2022 was … well… wild. It is hard to describe a year with so many surprises, so many ups and downs, and so many instability. But I’ll try.

As we were heading out of the pandemic (and some might argue we are not even out yet), this created an extreme uncertain time in humanity. Politics become so polarized that even a right wing leader like the Permier of our province got kicked out for “not being Pro-freedom enough”. The discourse becomes so binary and nasty that it has become pure theater. Great leadership is few and far between. The invasion of Ukraine by Russia see the West scrambling, searching for its soul once more. The roller coaster ride, first heated, non stop acceleration of tech, and then the correction with the crash of crypto, FTX, and now massive layoff. It’s been wild

On the personal front, I unceremonously turned 37. We traveled internationally again. We finally took that honeymoon that has been delayed for 2.5 years. We decided not to adopt. We decided not to move. My parner decided to get out of provincial politics for now due to above said nastiness. My brother got laid off. I was turned down for a promotion. 

Perhaps, the theme of this year would be self doubt. Not that I doubt my values, my core, my intelligence, or my ability. I know I am a good person and I want to do good for the world. I know I can learn and be better at things, maybe even be great at things. The doubt is whether these are the things that I want to continue to do, and whether the world sees my values as I see it.

With tech the way it is, with tech biollionaires and tech gurus exploiting people, with the widening gaps of the haves and haves not, with the world rewarding horribly selfish, self-centered, explotative individuals, I couldn’t help but wonder, do I want to be there? Do I want to be one of these “so-called” leaders? I didn’t mind that I didn’t get the promotion (I had a hunch), what made me wonder more than anything was the feedback that I got. “You need more network. It’s about your brand name and the people you know. I have 4000 followers on Twitter.” “You need to be more strategic. We need to hear your voice at strategy meetings.” (which I more or less don’t get invited to). I could not help but wonder, I am already working at one of the most progressive and diverse teams in one of the most progressive and diverse company in Alberta, and this is the feedback I’ve got, what chance in hell do I have anywhere? People don’t get opportunity to be in strategic meetings and board rooms and access to mentorship to these places, and for the lack of these experience, they will never get there. 

With the world the way it is, with liars and violent agitators winning and getting what they want, or at least not being held accountable for their actions, I could not help but wonder, is there hope for us? What is the point? Look at our leaders here in Canada. Look at the opposition leaders. None of them inspire confidence, or even just simply inspire. Zelensky, a comedian actor, in a war against one of the most powerful nations (and bullies) in the world, steps up and leads, and be the beacon of hope his nation needs. Our leaders are pondering destroying our Constitution to protect the right to plastic straw.

So maybe this year, for Christmas, I wish for hope. If Santa or whoever can just deliver hope in a package. No gift wrap required. If all I can have this year, is a direction, a manual, a guidebook, for how I can translate my values, my belief, my hope, my faith, and my ability, into a path forward, I’d really appreciate it. I’m feeling truly lost in this wild wild world. 

Nothing new and riveting this time around, I’m afraid. After spending a full week on an all-team-member, all-in-office meeting, one fact hits me in the face. “When someone tells you they are too busy for you or the things you want them to do with/for you; it just means they have other higher priority (and unfortunately you/the thing you care about is not)”

That’s it. That’s the epiphany

Would have been nice to be a priority for once, though.

I don’t know what has brought on the recent funk in my life, and I was determined to find out.

It might be because I was recently turned down for a promotion. It might be because I came back from a 3-week-trip in Europe to the same old familiar, and a province now run by conspiracy theorists. It might be cause I am searching for anything that I want to spend hours on, like arts, swimming, and skill, and I have found nothing. It might be because this restlessness is only met with more loneliness and I’m afraid it will do to me.

I mean in the sense of classic Ikigai, I had it pretty good. I have a decent job that I used to think I was decent at and it will help others and humanity that I quite like. But lately, I’ve been asking “Do I really love it? Do I really love software engineering?” Or is it because I’m decently good at it and because without software, I literally have no other marketable and transferrable skills? And it does do good for the world and others? I look at the world with the tech billionaires, with Elon now owning Twitter and with Mark ruining the Metaverse, I couldn’t help but wonder, “How much of this tech world and software world can I influence and change?” 

I was searching deep down in my soul for the thing that “I’m passionate about”, the thing I can spend hours on, the thing I keep polishing my skills at. If the garden this year is any indication, I can spend 3-4 years learning a new skill that I absolutely sucked at. If my painting is any indication, I can spend days and days, 6-10 hours each day working on one thing and completing it. If my Lego is any indication, I get obsessed and I go at it like a dog with a bone until I’m finished. If my first novel is any indication, I can create something, spending half hour a day on lunch break for 2 years to complete it. I am capable of that one thing you are “passionate about”. I just am having a really hard time finding it.

It’s Halloween and seeing all the people on social media going to party with costumes, I thought to myself, I have no energy for that anymore. I used to spend days making some obscure references into a costume. In a poorly adapted metaphor, I’m a vehicle in need of both the compass and the fuel. I always coach my team members about direction and autonomy. Instead, here I am, stagnating, alone, sitting in place slowly sinking into an ice lake filled with political uncertainty and human isolation.

I miss the time when the direction was simple. Get out of Vietnam. Get a scholarship. Graduate. Get a job. Go somewhere I can be authentic. Get married. Build a family. Be a CTO of a tech scale-up.

This funk feels like an empty void, one that is slowly swallowing up everything, not fast enough to be noticed, but present enough to be torturous. 

After all, as I read somewhere, black holes should be the most terrifying costume about Halloween.

( This is an introspective meditation about inward honesty)

I’ve realized more and more lately that what we as humanity said we wanted is often at odds with what we actually want. Similarly, sometimes we only want “the good”, without “the bad”. In other words, we only wish for “the perfect” that doesn’t exist.

For example, (some) men often say “I want to date/marry a strong and independent woman”. And when they do meet one, they complain about her being too headstrong, they complain about her not needing them so they felt their masculinity is threatened. What they really want is “to conquer a strong and independent woman to be theirs”

For example, some tech companies will say “We look for independent thinkers who can break the mold, challenge the status quo, and disrupt technology”. And during the entire interview process or onboarding, they focus on “culture fit” and how a new hire can fit in the existing mold. What they really want is “to find another person just like us, self-assessed as an independent innovator to do whatever we want them to do that is similar to our current work”

For example, we tell ourselves we want someone who challenges us, who pushes us outside of our comfort zone, to grow with them. In fact, what we want is a familiar comfort, someone who will always be there, to care for us, to be an anchor, a weight, a comfort blanket. And when they challenge us, they push us, we asked them “Why can’t you just stay still and be happier and enjoy this little bit of comfort we have worked so hard to earn?”

For example, we tell ourselves we live in a province of bootstrappers and innovators who care about equality and people helping people, and we value true courage and leadership. Yet, once and again, we voted in racist homophobes to unlock the “free market” to give people equal access. Yet, once and again, when the racist homophobes we voted for “do what is right” to protect people’s lives and health, we vote them out of office so we can select a more-racist homophone. What we really want is the people just like us in the position of power so they do our bidding and come up with policies that benefit us. 

And so, back to the classic Buddhist fable “Who is the self?” This obsession with the self, with the “I”, is the basis of all sufferings in Buddhist teachings. Yet, here we are. Here I am.

We often say self-awareness is the first step (of a 12-step-addition program?) but I’m often stuck on where to go from here. Do I fundamentally alter myself so this restlessness would go away? Do I give up on helping others, on being collaborative, so I don’t have to always feel taken for granted? Do I stop longing for growth, so that comfort can be welcome? Do I stop relying on others, to get the speed and productivity I need, and stop feeling so resentful of being so alone? Do I stop longing for others, just so I won’t feel so isolated? Do I stop desiring social justice and the embrace of a city and a province that has turned increasingly hostile because I am among the few and the privileged?

Am I the only one around here to say what I want and am ready to embrace all the hard work and all the heartbreak that come with it?

Even that, itself, can feel pretty isolating and lonely. Being alone on the first step of the 12-step-program called “Facing what we truly want”