philosophy and a broom

There’s something about sweeping that always lights up my mind. This post has been long in the making. If there’s one thing I did get from Freshman writing, it’s that good writing is intentional. I’ve known for a while that there was a point I wanted to make. To myself if no one else. And somewhat of a conclusion to be reached.* So, this is the result of several cleaning frenzies and six months in the closest thing to home I’ve ever known.

There’s a girl that I should be by now.
I’ve been thinking (too much) that my passion for philosophy has been neglected while I’ve been here in China. When’s the last time I read Sartre, Heidegger, or Nietzsche? The answer to that would be last semester at BYU (and the semester before and before…), because somehow I’m always drawn to classes that will load piles of existentialist books on my desk, which is why I didn’t bring any to China with me; I was looking for a break from thinking. One should be more careful with their wishes. Or maybe they shouldn’t. While I was reprimanding myself for not keeping up in my studies, I realized that’s entirely unnecessary. Philosophers write about life. And I’ve definitely been living over the past six months, have I not? So I’ll just accept that experience is the best teacher. There’s a time to read and learn from others, and then there’s a time to grow your own wings and try your hand at the kind of living you’ve only been studying. You find that there will always be more to learn from that alone.
In China…
I’ve learned to love. Brotherly love, unconditional love, motherly love…you name it. It’s been amazing to experience meeting people you don’t know, who are from a different culture and speak a different language, and looking at them with love knowing that they are your brothers and sisters. Obviously I haven’t actually experienced the motherly love bit, but I’ve come closer to understanding it than ever before with my students. I never understood how moms can look at their hellions and say they love them. Then I became a teacher. And now I can’t look at those kids without wondering every time what joy they’ll experience in their life, and what pain will accompany it. And wondering if there’s anything I could possibly teach them through a simple English lesson that would stick with them to help them get through those times. Pathetic, yes, but I can’t help it. As far as unconditional love goes, I’ve discovered that if I put stipulations on my love, I’d never love anyone, and no one would ever love me. So I best be handing it out unconditionally.
I’ve learned to be a disciple. In more ways than one. In China (just as in many other places in the world, I’m sure), there’s great importance in pride. I like to take this and twist it, because argue as much as you’d like, I’ll never give up my opinion that there is no such thing as good pride. And what is viewed as such is only mistaken under that name. The pride that I’ve learned here is merely being who I’m expected to be from my own words and ideas. Simply, I’ve learned the importance of walking the talk. If you say you believe in something, you better show that through your words and your actions. I mean this secularly and religiously. Be trustworthy and dependable. And as far as my religious beliefs go, I’ve learned that I might be the first and only Latter-day Saint that some people I run into have ever met or will ever meet. It’s my responsibility to show everything I believe in without even talking about it.
I’ve learned I love my country. I realized this when I was in the Former Residence of Dr. Sun Yat-sen Museum. If this name doesn’t ring any bells, don’t worry, I didn’t know who he was until I was living in the city in which he was born and which is now named after and dedicated to his revolutionary movement which overthrew the Qing Dynasty (and last monarchy in China) and established the first republic in China. I walked in and saw red, white, and blue and shivers ran down my spine. I love China, but I’m an American. And I feel extremely blessed to be one. Looking at Sun Yat-sen’s Three Principles of the People, I saw similarities between his philosophy and our own constitution and it reminded me of one thing I’ve promised myself while I’ve been here. As an American, I have the right to support that constitution by voting and by holding elected officials responsible to it. I mean I can even watch congress on TV if I want to for goodness sake. That’s something Chinese people wouldn’t even dream of. It’s a privilege they don’t have, but it’s a right I better do everything in my power to keep.
I’ve learned that kindness can never be used up. It’s like love, the more you use the more you’ll have to share. And the Chinese people are incredible examples of that. They will go out of their way to help you. I hope that I’ll always remember their example in that. And I sure hope I’ll always be quick to show the same hospitality I’ve been shown here.
I’ve learned that life is fragile. (Disclaimer: this might seem morbid, but I’d really like to avoid that. Sorry if I fail in doing so.) I had never seen a dead body (other than at funerals) before I came to China. Now I’ve seen two on different occasions. Both were motorcycle accidents and I came up on them minutes after they happened. I don’t mean this in a hopeless “this life is all we get” sense because I certainly don’t believe that. Dying isn’t the worst thing that could happen in my opinion. But I do believe that this life is a gift. It should never be treated like anything other than that. Don’t waste time. Cherish everything beautiful you see. Everything has something beautiful. I always liked Chopin’s The Awakening and I like to think I’ve finally had my own awakening here. By different means, don’t worry. But life has taken on a new splendor and I can’t stop wondering how I didn’t see it until now.
I’ve learned that people are strong. The first time I saw a shack on the side of the road in China, I thought maybe we were just in a poor part of town. And then I saw hundreds more everywhere I went. And then I saw the people living in those shacks. And they were strong and just living their life just like any of us would. And I believe we’re all capable of that strength.
I’ve learned that an open mind doesn’t pose a threat to your own ideology. And if part of that ideology changes, it’s probably for the better. This world is full of minds; I feel bad for those people that don’t take time to learn others’. Learning about cultures and ideas that aren’t the same as my own was truly refreshing. It’s cliché to say it’s a “breath of fresh air,” but it was at least a breath. Exhaling after years of holding my breath in hope that everything that I believed wasn’t a sham. And most of my ideas about the world were only solidified by seemingly opposing ones. There’s beauty in contrast.
I’ve learned responsibility and independence. If I want something done, I best do it myself. Mommy can’t do it for you when she’s 7,000 miles away. I should have learned this when I moved out of the house two years ago, but Provo might be a bit too close to really let that sink in. And too-many-to-count phone calls with requests of deliveries and errands to be ran stood in the way of that lesson. Aside from that, I definitely still feel like a kid, but when I showed up at Bond Kindergarten, they expected me to be an adult. And there was no excuse to not behave like one anymore. I’ve also had to make several fairly big decisions about my life while in China. Usually I would rely on the counsel of my parents and close friends to help me with these types of things, but I wasn’t able to just call them and talk things over this time around. I had to learn independence from others, but certainly not independence from the Lord. He has been my sole support in making these decisions. And it’s been incredible to see.
I learned that people need people. There are so many people in life that you see every day or at least several times a week. In China, it’s been the guards at our complex, the little old couple that owns the noodle shop by our flat, the workers in MTR, the lifeguard at our pool…they’re people that I usually wouldn’t socialize with in America. However, being eager to speak Chinese as much as possible, I’ve talked with all of them and developed these little relationships with each. It made everyday tasks so much more enjoyable knowing that there would be a friend wherever I was going. Suddenly a city and a country that felt so foreign, seemed more and more like home, until it was.
There’s a girl that I should be by now. I can only hope she’ll follow me across the Pacific next week.

*I also learned proper grammar, as I’ve mentioned before. But this is my blog. I can have as many sentence fragments as I want. Take that, Word.