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Proof of Living Moments

Proof of Living Moments: Kindness

by Shenzhan / 申展


A summary of fragmented thoughts during the week, Proof of Living Moments (PLM) intends to have an account of what comes to my mind when I am reading on the subway, walking in the street or listening to a podcast, or like many people nowadays, just sitting around in my apartment. Thoughts often appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if that living moment has never existed.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

How to let go what you expect to get, and still be kind? 

I first start thinking of this question when I was reading a book in graduate school, 《上海的金枝玉叶》 (“ Precious Delicate Flowers in Shanghai”) , a biography of a woman from a wealthy family in early 20th Century Shanghai, going through the wars in the 30s and 40s, beginning of the Communist China, social and class movements peaked during the Cultural Revolution from 1966 - 1976, etc. By the time she was 80 years old and living quietly in a small ally in Shanghai, her family wealth was long gone, her husband died in a labor camp, and she herself had the memories of doing all kinds of laborious work unimaginable for a beautiful, delicate, high-class lady in Shanghai in the 30s. With all she went through, amazingly, she was still a kind person.

Impressed in an abstract way, I carry the memory of this book and her story effortlessly for all these years. It came up immediately when I came across Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem on the morning of July 1, 2020. 

In New York City, we are now entering the fourth month of working from home due to COVID-19 and I start to feel a bit frustrated about things between J and me. After a couple of months of close text messages and weekly 3-hour-long zoom calls, it seems we are hitting a wall. I suddenly don’t feel he has the kind of eagerness to talk anymore. I tried to initiate messages, but the response did not feel too encouraging. Did I say anything off putting (like when I mentioned I didn’t have a “real relationship” for 18 years, just dates and short terms)? Or we both increasingly feel hopeless as COVID-19 drags? Or he is just too busy with the school reopening, board meetings, zoom meetings with colleagues and parents, spending time with his families? In the end, it’s hard to keep up with the intensity of expectations for too long. At some point sparkles will start to fade, which is an unfortunate human nature. Also it’s hard to argue there is anything yet between us: we just met in person in February, and were immediately separated due to the pandemic. We haven’t FELT each other physically at all: forget about holding hands or anything beyond that, we haven’t even sitting next to each other in person, testing occasionally brushing against the other person’s finger, or shoulder. What’s worse, we don’t even know how and when THAT would happen!

Usually a frustration will lead to impatience and bitterness, and I will explode at some point and blow everything off. 

And I read Naomi’s poem, “Kindness”.

KINDNESS

Before you know what kindness really is 在你明白善的真谛以前

you must lose things, 你必须有所遗失,

feel the future dissolve in a moment 感受未来在瞬间消逝

like salt in a weakened broth. 就像稀薄的汤里的盐。

What you held in your hand, 你手中所握的,

what you counted and carefully saved, 你所依靠和谨慎保存的,

all this must go so you know 都必须放弃这样你才知道

how desolate the landscape can be 善与善的中间地带

between the regions of kindness. 风景可以多么荒凉。

How you ride and ride 好像你不停地不停地乘车

thinking the bus will never stop, 觉得公车永不停止,

the passengers eating maize and chicken 乘客们啃着玉米和鸡肉

will stare out the window forever. 会永远看着窗外。 

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, 在你了解善沉甸甸的柔软以前,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

你必须旅行,碰到穿着白色斗篷的印第安人

lies dead by the side of the road. 毫无生气地陈尸路旁。

You must see how this could be you, 你得明白这可能是你,

how he too was someone 明白他也曾在夜里穿行

who journeyed through the night with plans 有想法

and the simple breath that kept him alive. 还有让他活着的一口气

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, 你懂得善在内心最深处以前

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. 也必须明白悲伤深藏在那里。

You must wake up with sorrow. 你得带着悲伤醒来。

You must speak to it till your voice 与之交谈直到你的声音

catches the thread of all sorrows 托起每一根悲伤的线条

and you see the size of the cloth. 然后才明白整张布匹的大小。

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, 这时只有善才有意义,

only kindness that ties your shoes 只有善能让你系上鞋带,

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, 每天出去寄信、买面包,

only kindness that raises its head 只有善抬起头来

from the crowd of the world to say 从芸芸世间说

It is I you have been looking for, 你一直找的是我,

and then goes with you everywhere 然后跟随你到每一个地方

like a shadow or a friend. 就像影子或朋友。
(translation by Shenzhan/申展)

I remember the night J and I were talking about past relationships. J told me about his recent divorce; I shared my first relationship story in graduate school -- and that was when I texted J that I didn’t have any serious relationship afterwards in the past 18 years, which shocked him. As we chatted over text messages, I couldn’t help to be in a deep sorrow: perhaps what surprised him made me feel sorry for myself. Maybe I have been feeling sorry for myself ever since that first relationship ended. I was weeping and texting, for reasons I couldn’t, and still can’t, explain. It’s just painful, and I knew it had nothing to do with J.

But it was not true. There were other relationships, long or short, and I was serious. Or at least I intended to be serious at the beginning. But they all didn’t work out, hence are not counted as “relationships” in my mind. Is it possible that I have never allowed myself pass the very first “real” relationship? I can’t explain why I said what I said to J. I wasn’t trying to lie, but I wasn’t telling the truth either.

Can I still be kind to myself and others if I am not feeling particularly loving or being loved?

As I read the poem, it starts to feel it no longer matters whatever between J and me.

Kindness, "It is I you have been looking for." 

Perhaps the silver lining is, even when one is not capable of loving, one can still be capable of kindness.

Astoria, New York

Revised July 25, 2020

Hear Naomi reading “Kindness” : https://soundcloud.com/onbeing/kindness-by-naomi-shihab-nye

Hear Shenzhan/申展 reading “善“:

Proof of Living Moments: Pure Brightness 清明

A summary of fragmented thoughts, Proof of Living Moments (PLM) intends to have an account of what comes to my mind when I am reading on the subway, walking in the street or listening to a podcast. Thoughts often appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if that living moment has never existed.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

“After the Rain” by Feng Zikai/《雨后》丰子恺

“After the Rain” by Feng Zikai/《雨后》丰子恺

April 4 was Qingming (清明) Festival, according to the Chinese traditional calendar. Qingming has been celebrated among Chinese since Han Dynasty (206 BC to 220 AD). As the first important holiday after Chinese Lunar New Year, Qingming marks the coming of the spring: bright and warm sunlight brings life back to the earth after a long and stark cold winter. So as human lives: families visit their ancestors' graveyards while strengthening bonds between the living and the dead, as well as among generations; spring outing is popular among young men and women, who will look for, and hopefully make love in the field! Kites are flying in the blue sky as the spring breeze gently blows. Indeed, in Chinese, 清(qīng)literally means “pure”, or “clear”; 明 (míng) means “brightness”. While it is often associated with activities including cleaning the tombs of deceased family members and ancestors (which sounds too serious), the word itself indicates days that are coming will be brighter and more lively.

Sitting in an apartment in Astoria, New York City, I heard sirens of ambulances near and far outside of my window from time to time. It’s the end of the third week staying home due to COVID-19. The sun is indeed bright. Hydrangeas I brought back last Wednesday from my last grocery trip are thriving on the balcony. The death toll in New York City reached 1,867 yesterday with a total of 63,306 confirmed cases in the morning of Saturday. Every topic on the  newspaper, TV, websites, personal blogs (including this one), is about COVID-19: scary numbers, death tolls, CDC updates (now they say you should wear a “cloth cover” when you go out in public); parents slowly or quickly driven crazy by their children; teachers talking about online teaching; many many diaries about being in New York at this time; all the documentations of this surreal moment of the human history; millions of job lost over the past 3 weeks and a gloomy future with the possibility of a great depression, perhaps worse than the one in 1929. It felt surreal at the beginning, when all of sudden the world stopped and we were all “shelter-in-place”, seeing human faces most of the time 2D through Zoom. And now it’s more real than we want to believe. 

And as far as we are still alive, life will go on. The question is how? Or, how differently will life go on?

I suspended my usual bike ride this morning, and canceled an appointment to the New York Blood Center ---- I was planning to donate blood there though eventually changed the appointment to a later date: taking a subway proved to be too daunting. I moved some debris out of my balcony and loosen the soil in a few pots. Somehow I found 3 seeds from a small jar from years ago. And I planted them all in one of the big pots. I don’t know what kind of plants they are.

The balcony overlooks a few backyards on my block. In this part of Astoria, most of the houses were 2 or 3 storied structures built years ago, with a yard in the back. My downstairs neighbor George’s garden is right beneath my balcony. A few pine trees I helped to plant years ago are still thriving; dandelions are blossoming quietly in a corner----though sadly the garden is not under good care. The yard next to his garden was left in complete wildness for a long time, but in the past few days new tenants trimmed the grass neatly. A young man was playing in the yard for a while, alone. And stopped. An old couple, whose garden is always the best attended in this little backyard world, are busy doing some gardening already. I envy their two beautiful trees blossoming with white flowers, and another one full of pink buds. Birds, all kinds, are busy chirping and yelling. I heard a loud chirp in one of the bushes and was completely absorbed for a moment, trying to find the source. 

I remember many afternoons of spring and summer are exactly like this: quiet, peaceful, nothing is really happening but life is around. 

Except for the occasional distant ambulance serien, which almost certainly is for someone critical with COVID-19. Now the weird thing is, as I enjoyed the moment, I was at the same time guilty: not too far from my house, in the Elmhurst Hospital, people were dying in hundreds; doctors working without enough protection were desperate. How can I allow myself sitting in the sun, sipping a glass of beer, and feeling tranquil? 

We are now all social distancing at home. The world is changing. And I wonder, how long will this little calm and peaceful backyard world last?

Regardless, that was a living moment during COVID-19, and now I have a proof. 

Astoria, New York

4/4/2020

Proof of Living Moments: Tough Love and Kahlil Gibran/艰难的爱与纪伯伦

by Shenzhan/申展

Reaching, Astoria, New York, May 2020 by Shenzhan/申展

Reaching, Astoria, New York, May 2020

by Shenzhan/申展

今天读到纪伯伦(1883-1931)的《先知》,有些奇怪的感觉:阳光似乎特别明亮,天空特别蓝,鸟儿的啼叫显得既特别嘈杂,又特别空寥。

意大利紧缺病床收治COVID-19的感染者,美国宣布全国进入紧急状态,纽约州长Andrew Cruomo 给总统Trump写了封公开信,要求军队增援以备应对患病和死亡人数不可避免地激增的状况。

2020年3月16日,我也要开始在家工作了。

坐在纽约Astoria公寓的书桌前,面对几近荒芜的后院——一个孩子的笑声不断传来——我读到《先知》的第二章,“关于爱”:

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

黎明醒来,带着一颗轻快的心,感谢又一天,充满爱;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

午间休憩,静思爱的激情;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

黄昏归家,心怀感恩;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

然后入睡,祈祷心中所爱,唇边颂唱。

(翻译:申展;Translation by Shenzhan Liao)

我想这当是每日在家的作息。

一息尚存,就爱这世界吧。

***

It feels strange to come across “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran (1883 - 1931) on this day, when the sun seems to be extra bright, the sky extra blue and the birds chirping extra loud and quiet at the same time. 

Italy is running out of beds to treat patients with COVID-19; U.S. has declared national emergency; and New York governor Andrew Cuomo wrote an open letter to President Trump asking for military aid to build more medical facility quickly in order to prepare for the inevitable wave of the sick and the dead as the virus spreads exponentially. 

Starting Monday, March 16, 2020, I am going to work from home. 

Sitting at my desk facing a mostly deserted backyard in Astoria, New York, a child’s laughter piercing the air, I came across these words from “Love”, chapter 2 in “The Prophet”:

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

黎明醒来,带着一颗轻快的心,感谢又一天,充满爱;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

午间休憩,静思爱的激情;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

黄昏归家,心怀感恩;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

然后入睡,祈祷心中所爱,唇边颂唱。

(翻译:申展;Translation by Shenzhan Liao)

I think it immediately gives a good structure of a day working from home. 

Still in love with this world, at every breathing moment of my life. 

Astoria, New York

March 15, 2020

Proof of Living Moments: Wendell Berry and Blue Jays

by Shenzhan/申展

A summary of fragmented thoughts, Proof of Living Moments (PLM) intends to have an account of what comes to my mind when I am reading on the subway, walking in the street or listening to a podcast. Thoughts often appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if that living moment has never existed.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

I found myself having the first moment of settling down in the year of 2020 while I was reading a poem by Wendell Berry (1934 — ) . I can’t help but copy it down and translate it into Chinese here:

***

How to be a poet 怎么做一个诗人

(to remind myself) (提醒自己)

By Wendell Berry 作者:Wendell Berry

Make a place to sit down. 创造一个地方坐下。

Sit down. Be quiet. 坐下。安静。

You must depend upon 你得依靠

affection, reading, knowledge, 情感,阅读,知识

skill -- more of each 技巧——每样都得

than you have--inspiration, 比你有的更多——启发,

work, growing older, patience, 工作,慢慢变老,耐心,

for patience joins time 耐心融入时光

to eternity. Any readers 与永恒。所有读者

who like your poems, 喜爱你的诗,

doubt their judgement. 怀疑自己的判断。

Breathe with unconditional breath 无条件的呼吸,呼吸

the unconditioned air. 没有被调节的空气。

Shun electric wire. 躲避电缆。

Communicate slowly. Live 慢慢交流。过

a three-dimensioned life; 一种三维的生活;

stay away from screens. 远离屏幕。

Stay away from anything 远离任何东西

that obscures the place it is in. 如果它打搅了自己所在。

There are no unsacred places; 没有不神圣的地方;

there are only scared places 只有神圣的地方

and desecrated places. 和被亵渎的地方。

Accept what comes from silence. 接受来自沉默的一切。

Make the best you can of it. 尽你所能运用沉默。

Of the little words that come 那些微不足道的字眼

out of the silence, like prayers 出自沉默,就像祈祷

prayed back to the one who prays, 返回给祈祷者,

make a poem that does not disturb 做成一首诗,不打搅

the silence from which it came. 那与之俱来的沉默。

***

Then I heard birds chirping outside of my window at the very moment when I was so moved by Berry’s poem. Naturally, I wrote the following:

Blue jays,  冠蓝鸦,

beautiful birds, 美丽的鸟儿,

came to my balcony, 来到我的阳台,

for water 从一个很早以前被遗忘在此的篮子,

in a basket forgotten there 喝水。

long time ago.

(by Shenzhan Liao)

It truly feels like a best living moment. like I am riding a wave, at its peak. Now I have a proof.

January 5, 2020

Astoria, New York

Proof of Living Moments: A Message to "My Dear Child"

by Shenzhan/申展

A summary of fragmented thoughts during the week, Proof of Living Moments (PLM) intends to have an account of what comes to my mind when I am reading on the subway, walking in the street or listening to a podcast. Thoughts often appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if that living moment has never existed.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

I was reading an article from New York Times on June 15, 2019, “Nazi Killed Her Father: Then She Fell in Love with One”, a story of a family history deeply complicated and disturbing. Immediately after reading the article, I wrote down the following message. Today, July 5, 2019, as I am reading the message again, it still strikes me of its relevance. 

My Dear Child,

When you grow up, you will discover that disregard your humanity, intelligence, kind will, personality, you will be judged, at some point, by race, class, ideology, religion, etc. Is it fair? Absolutely not! But shall we live with anger, frustration or despair? No. My dear child. I challenge you to live a life that’s full of joy, love and kindness in spite of the unfairness. Just remember, such a life is not given. Sometimes you have to fight for it from others. Most of the time, it’s a fight with and within yourself. 

Always humble. Always thinking of the fact that ON ONE is innocent. 

The thought of this, to me, is a living moment. And now I have a proof. 

Astoria, New York

7/5/2019

Proof of Living Moments: The Cranberries and Waiting in Walthamstow

by Shenzhan/申展

Cover of Roses, The Cranberries

Cover of Roses, The Cranberries

A summary of fragmented thoughts during the week, Proof of Living Moments (PLM) intends to have an account of what comes to my mind when I am reading on the subway, walking in the street or listening to a podcast. Thoughts often appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if that living moment has never existed.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

April 26, 2019. In the End, the 8th and last of album by The Cranberries is out.

I heard this through “All Songs Considered”, a podcast on today’s music, with an ear-mug BOSE attached to my head on the way to work in downtown Manhattan. Like many New Yorkers, I nowadays walk in the street wearing a big BOSE headset, which was quite good in the winter as it worked as a pair of ear mugs. Now it becomes questionable with the warm weather. On crowded subways, I take it off as it might appear to be a bit obnoxious since the BOSE seems to scream “DON’T TALK TO ME! I AM IN MY OWN WORLD!”. Sometimes I enjoy it so much and choose to stay annoying people around me, like this Friday.

An internationally successful Irish band since early 1990s, The Cranberries has always been a household name among Chinese, especially in Hong Kong. Chinese singer Faye Wong’s “Dream Lover” (梦中人), a cover of “Dreams” by the Cranberries in 1993, was made hugely popular in Hong Kong director Wong Kar-wai’s 1994 film Chungking Express (重庆森林). Today as In the End is released, the lead singer, Dolores O’Riordan has already passed away in January 2018 after drowned herself in a bathtub due to intoxication by alcohol.  It’s almost a miracle that with recordings made by Dolores before her tragic death this album was made, as a tribute to the great singer from Ireland.

To me it’s working like a miracle too. It was raining hard that day after work. I was walking home from the train station, feeling good about my body, a bit sore but satisfied after twisting and stretching with Nick, one of my favorite yoga instructors at Yoga Agora in Astoria. The BOSE infused the Cranberries into my ears:

I got this thing in my head, when I awake in my bed

While I was thinking about when I wondered if you thought about me

…...

I am not in my bed and I often don’t keep thinking about this kind of questions. With my hands full with two bags and an umbrella, walking down Steinway Street to my apartment in the rain, Dolores’ angelical soft voice suddenly struck me.

“I was thinking about when I wondered if you thought about me”...

Right at this moment, I wonder who’s thinking about me, and I wonder whom I am thinking about. Memories flashed as I was having her music in my ear, watching a car on Steinway blinking its head lights. The street smelled  like rain in spring, wet, fresh, with a touch of lingering coolness from the winter. It’s New York in April. Spring is still not fully here yet. I found myself walking very fast, surprised by how good the song is, and tears, just a little, came to my eyes.

Back in my apt, I searched for the song, Waiting in Walthamstow, and below is the lyrics:


I got this thing in my head, when I awake in my bed

While I was thinking about when I wondered if you thought about me

I’ve got a pain in my heart whenever we are apart

I’ve got a pain in my head when I awake in my bed

And I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

Ah-ahah ah-ahah ah-ahah

I took the underground, I went eastbound

I went to Walthamstow

While you were waiting to see me there, I really really want you to know

I’ll never forget your kindness (ah ah), I’ll never forget your grace (ah ah)

I’ll never forget your honor (ah ah), you make the world a beautiful place (ah ah)

I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

Lalalala, lalalala-la, lalalala-la

(Ah-ah-ah) In Walthamstow, in Walthamsto-ow-ow, Walthamsto-ow-ow

I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

I was waiting there for you, you were waiting there for me

Lalalala-la, lalalala-la

Lalalalaa lala, lalalalaa lalalalala

Lalalala, lalalala, lalalala

Released in a 2012 album Roses, Dolores wrote the song herself. Walthamstow is a district in north-east London and was mentioned in a few songs before the Cranberries. I didn’t find any particular connection between the Cranberries or Dolores and Walthamstow. And I don’t know why I got so sentimental at that particular moment.

But it’s a living moment. And now I have a proof.

Astoria, New York

4/27/2019

Proof of Living Moments: Loyal to yourself or your family?

By Shenzhan 申展

This is a summary of fragmented thoughts during the week. Often these thoughts come to me when I am reading on the subway, watching something happening in the street or listening to a podcast. Thoughts appear, then disappear into the ocean of unconsciousness, as if they have never existed.

As if I have never lived that moment.

I hope these notes are at least a proof of those living moments.

Loyal to yourself or your family?

In Your Loyalties Are Your Life, a New York Times Op-Ed on Jan. 24, David Brooks writes Josiah Royce is the kind of philosopher that we need more in today’s world. Royce is an American Philosopher in 1900 who thinks “the good life meant tightly binding yourself to others - giving yourself away with others for the sake of a noble cause.” His views are not so popular today as the world has been singing the songs for tolerance in a pluralistic society and giving each other space for being themselves. Brooks continues, for Royce, the good human life meant loyalty, “the willing and practical and thoroughgoing devotion of a person to a cause.”

It resonates with me as I recently spoke with a dear friend of mine (Tuzi) the other day about my anxiety - the fact of me being in New York appears not to bring good to anyone else (perhaps even including myself) after living alone here for over 10 years. Meanwhile Tuzi shared her frustration of juggling between two families, hers and her husband’s, during the Spring Festival - she had to make herself available, reluctantly, to her husband’s family reunion, instead of going back to her own family to celebrate a time together.

It’s about loyalties. Being alone in New York, I am looking for the reason that I can be loyal to, a cause bigger than myself to stay here. For Tuzi, or many of my friends in China who are married, with often too many families and relatives to attend to, loyalty seems not a choice, but a responsibility by nature, sometimes can be a little overbearing.

For Chinese in general, the question of loyalty is relatively pre-defined: you have to choose to be loyal to your family, which is bond by principles according to the Confucian tradition. Of course, it’s not always the case as the tradition changes over time, and young generations find ways to push the boundaries, especially in today’s world full of choices, distractions, and temptations. For example, I am in New York, single, and will likely not give birth to my own child. Traditionally all these are considered to be taboos. But at least in my family and among my friends, it’s tolerated, which in part is the reason that I’m able to stay in New York. Nevertheless, one’s family is a cause bigger than oneself. Compared to aimlessly roaming in the world and feeling the burden of searching for the cause, Chinese seem to find a way, early on, to anchor oneself even before the philosophical quest of loyalty surfaces. It may be a relatively apparent cause (in the end, who can say there is anything wrong with being loyal to your own family?), but if it’s a predetermined cause, it limites one’s own quest when negotiates loyalty and at the same time could be the source of frustration: in the end, we are creatures always trying to keep the balance between loyalty and freedom.

January 27, 2019

Astoria, New York