A reminder

I just had a very heartfelt talk with my mom.

She had finished watching a long-running Hong Kong TV show which focuses on stories of Chinese people who live around the world in unexpected places or professions. Usually the stories are of the tear-jerking variety about the hardships of living abroad in developing countries.

This particular episode featured a mom who moved to Costa Rica from a normal life in Hong Kong to help her daughter run a restaurant business and take care of her young grandchildren. The mother-daughter relationship ultimately turned sour. Apparently, after 30 years of helping her daughter, the daughter abandoned her 80 year old mom to fend for herself in this foreign country. The mother, full of tears, told the camera crew that she is only waiting to die, although her ultimate wish is to head back to Hong Kong to live in an old person’s home.

The other story was of a young man who moved to another developing country due to poverty in Hong Kong at 10 years old. He lost his finger while working on a farm and soon lost his legs in a factory accident at 18. His mother went to that country to take care of him. Once he recovered, he managed to find an office position, despite to his disability. He saved up for decades, barely spending an extra dime, with his mother to finally own a house of their own. His mother, at the end of the dark tunnel, fell ill and passed away. The man told the interviewer that he felt like his whole life he had been without fortune. His ultimate regret was that he could not provide a better life for his mother.

This led to a discussion of those unfortunate around us. I shared my story about the Malawian young woman I met in Dar es Salaam, who had left her country to one where she couldn’t speak the language to earn $20 USD for school. I shared stories about people I have only met through words on a page who grew up in refugee camps. About infants who die from something as simple as diarrhea because the hospital was too far away or didn’t have enough medicine. About how I recently saw this:

Mom and I both reflected on how fortunate us, and everyone around us, were to be born in a place where not only were we assured of a basic living standard but to have a safe rule of law. To be able to live “normal lives.”

I felt a sense of shame after our talk. Shame at how I had temporarily forgotten my place and responsibilities in this world due to the recent emotional tumult and career confusion. Shame at how self-centred I had become due to a slight blip in my extremely fortunate life. Shame that I can’t shake off.

Nevertheless, shame never helped improve anything in the world. Shame must be turned into positive energy and the only converter is my mental state. Fortunately, for it is something I can control.

Lastly, I leave myself with this from the Gandhi Museum in New Delhi.

With renewed motivation, hello world!