But... Why?

We all do things that we don't agree with or want to do for the sake of our loved ones. They can be tiny things, but we all do them to keep relationships running: it's called 'compromise'.

A friend challenged me the other day about one everyday compromise I make. It's a cultural/ religious dietary rule I follow without believing with it or really agreeing with it, but I follow it because 1) it's very important to my immediate close family and would deeply upset them if I don't follow it and 2) it doesn't harm myself or anyone else around me. My friend challenged me because I admitted that I wished I could eat some stuff, being a natural foodie, but I had long ago decided to respect my family's wishes. The conversation more or less went like this:

"But why?"

"Because it would really upset my family if I didn't do it."

"Why does it matter?"

"It matters because I don't want to hurt my family."

"Why are you willing to compromise your own beliefs?"

"I'm not as such, just keeping one of the precious few things that link my identity to my family's."

"But why do you need to follow someone else's way of identifying themselves for your own identity?"

This is one of the reasons I really respect my friend, who's not afraid to ask the tough questions. However I was also annoyed- the question 'why' can be used an infinite amount of times and a final root answer never found. And besides, why did I have to justify my actions, anyway? My friend was satisfied in my lack a sensible or logical answer to the final question. I did have a response in my mind though: how do we identify ourselves without other people to identify with? But I didn't carry on the debate,not wanting to answer a question with rhetoric that would lead to even more debate. Also, my friend is religious and I am not- a huge difference in mindset that puts all similar debates about the human condition at a stalemate.

It's a good practice to have though, if ever you are in a personal bind. Ask yourself why, and what your motives are. Or better yet, find a friend who isn't afraid to ask the tough questions. Just be sure that you're ready to face them!

Just Dance

In a fit of whimsical madness, I decided to try K-pop dancing this week.

I stumbled across the dance group searching for a C-pop band I usually listen to, who also happen to have a K-pop incarnation. The dance group have been learning one of this band's routines this month, and since you can just drop in on any session to learn a section of the routine at a time, I thought, 'why not?'

I'm not a natural dancer. You'd think being a musician would make me good at dancing by default since I'm at home with beat, rhythm, coordination and the like, but you'd be mistaken. Sure, like almost anything else, if I set my mind to it I could be reasonable at it, but it's definitely not one of my natural talents like making music or cake or crafts. I know I'm never going to be a dancer. Hell, I even know I'll never have the time to go to regular classes to teach my arms and legs to work together in harmony. So why bother at all?

Well, what a sad world would it be, if we didn't try things just because we weren't instantly good at them?

I've often been been called for doing things that are a 'waste of my time'. After some debate with people with this view (usually well-meaning family members), I've realised that that the concept of something being a 'waste of time' to these people translates roughly as 'doing something that doesn't better yourself in a way that will allow you to further your career, earn more money and be more successful in life.'

What an even sadder world it would be without personal enrichment.

Really, this calls into question what 'success' really means, as a life value. In today's society, I suppose it means to have lots of money, own your own two-bedroom property and car and to go on lots of holidays abroad. If this is all that's important in life, than surely you must spend every waking moment assuring you are doing everything in your power to achieve these things?

There's a problem with this mentality, though. The most obvious one is all work and no play makes Jack a crazy axe-wielding psychopath (or maybe that's only when you work in a haunted hotel). The big one- the big, scary one that everyone tries their best to ignore- is the fact that you can't take it all with you when you die. At least, it doesn't seem that way. For all I know when you die little ghost versions of all of your life's belongings follows you to the afterlife, but for now I'm guessing now.

In your final moments of earthly awareness, as you contemplate the series of events that became your life, are you going to regret not spending more hours at the computer on that Excel spreadsheet? Or will you regret never getting round to doing that thing you always wanted to do because you were always at your computer on that Excel spreadsheet?

Money can help to buy happiness, but if you don't take the time to find out reflect inwardly on what makes you happy, then you're pretty much screwed. Other people can't make you happy either, really (although they certainly help a huge amount!) The only thing that can truly make you happy is yourself- and that, in itself, can take quiet a bit of work. Without working on yourself as a person rather than yourself as a commodity, you could have all the money in the world and feel empty, and be surrounded by as many people as possible and still feel lonely.

I am a writer by day, but in between working hours I sing and play musical instruments, bake and decorate cakes, learn languages, meet with friends all over the place, run, create cute cuddly things out of felt and wool, knit, and now apparently I try to dance. Why? Because all of these things make me happy, as well as finding new challenges and experiences in itself. Maybe K-pop dancing won't be one that sticks quite like all of the others, but for now, I'm happy with it being one of the things I remember on my death bed and think, 'Haha! That was pretty crazy but fun, huh?'

Surrounded by Weirdos

On the train. Where else?

Reading quietly in my carriage, on my way back home from my Wednesday evening Mandarin class, I distantly noticed that a man had gotten up from his seat opposite me to sit next to me. I didn't really question why he had decided to switch seats mid-journey, engrossed in my book as I was. What I did question though was the increasing cramped conditions due to his arm sneaking further and further from the arm rest (which he had taken firm command of), and over into my space. I kept shifting sideways, hoping he'd just stop, but he kept shifting even more so our bare arms were touching (being a hot summer's day, everyone was wearing short sleeves).

I considered asking him to budge up- I'm not usually one for demurring- but since incidences of violence from such 'challenges' as that have been on the up and this guy looked like the type to look for a challenge, I decided just to hold firm. It's not fair to judge on appearances, I know, but I wasn't feeling lucky.

As I became increasingly irritated at someone else's (very hairy) arm trying to get to know mine better and venturing into my ribs, the train stopped to let on another flow of people. In the now empty spot opposite me now sat a wiry, twitchy guy with very curly hair, who promptly got out an entire pre-packed pasta salad and a bottle of Mountain Dew and proceeded to have his dinner on the train.

I didn't really mind too much: perhaps it had been a long day at work and this was his only chance to grab a bite. What did start to become a bother though was when he started belching loudly and wiping his mouth ostentatiously. Bother became slight worry when he put his now-empty salad pack back in his rucksack, chucked the bottle behind his seat and began to sway a little. Was he feeling unwell?

I considered asking if he was alright, but suddenly he began to twitch and shake ever so slightly, like he was trying to shake off invisible flies. I decided to stay put. I became very glad for my decision not to interfere, because soon every so often he'd bend over, head between knees, shake his head and mumble something, before emerging with wild eyes.

Two stops later and the hairy-armed guy, to my vast relief, got off. I wasn't completely at ease though: twitchy guy was still opposite me. At least there was only one strange person to worry about, though.

That is, until a lady on her mobile phone took the place of hairy-armed guy by my side.

I didn't really pay attention to her at first. Slowly, however, I began to pick up patterns in whatever she was saying over the phone. I couldn't understand the language, but whatever she was saying sounded a little like "I'll make you soup." Slowly, I realised that she was saying this over and over again. "I'll make you soup. I'll make you soup. I'll make you soup. Aha. Aha. I'll make you soup."

And then I realised we were still underground, with no possible phone signal.

"I'll make you soup. Aha. Aha. I'll make you soup. I'll make you soup."

Twitchy guy strode jerkily off the train a few stops after, but I was alone with the lady on her phone next to me for the remainder of the journey.

I had 15 minutes of "I'll make you soup." before my final stop at the end of the line. As the train pulled into my station, I got up, and so did the lady on her phone.

"I'll make you soup. Okay, bye."

I stared after her in disbelief as she strode off.

~End~