This was a day of rain. The rain came down the mountain as a cloud of mist. The dragon is coming down the mountain for new year!
We were all inspired to walk up the mountain. We put on our layers and quickly were surprised by the heat of day. The mountain walk was quiet and serene. We pushed our way up to the peak. Really not so bad compared to our first attempts when we initially arrived in Hong Kong.
We asked each other if we thought we were ambitious. Do you work on things, despite how hard it seems at first? Do you keep pushing yourself until you improve? Music, math, Mandarin, etc. Yes, replied my son. Look, he said indicating the raincoat draped over his arm. The raincoat was supposed to be covering his body, not his forearm.
You are ambitious. You were one of our top members. That’s why I enjoy talking to you.
I don’t feel ambitious; at least I don’t feel ambitious about the future. I feel like I am one of those people who want to live in the past. Like Owen Wilson’s character in Woody Allen film, Midnight in Paris.
Nostalgia is denial – denial of the painful present… the name for this denial is golden age thinking – the erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one one is living in – it’s a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present.
I wish that my kids walked to the local school house with their pet dog. They would meet up with other friends on the way. They would eat lunch on the lawn in summer time. On a beautiful spring afternoon, the teacher’s would cancel lessons and have a picnic and a game of soccer instead.
I wish that my kids came home for a hot lunch of thick chicken soup and home-made bread.
I wish that I got my milk from my goats in the yard. And that I sold goat’s milk cheese and goat’s milk soap.
I wish that I made all my children’s’ clothing. And in the summer I would make jam from the wild blackberries growing on the edge of our property. All of our friends would get together and do canning and pickling when the harvest season arrived.
What am I doing living in a city that has no green? I thought I was an urbanite, but this city takes it all to the extreme.
I am burnt out. I have nothing left to give. I need to rebuild. I need to restore my “self”. I know what I want. I want peace and quiet. I want nature. I want to be outside – not on a cement path – on the ground. Do you know that I never touch the ground in Hong Kong? There is no ground. I am ungrounded. I have lost it all. I am having a nervous breakdown.