It is a beautiful tragedy, but a tragedy, nonetheless.
It took me this long to understand.
That you cannot love a Stranger, you cannot truly love a stranger, touch lives, change the world, unless you love and touch those who were destined to love you-your own family, and change yourself to love them, deeply, genuinely, wholeheartedly- regardless of circumstance or situation.
It took me this long to understand.
Grandpa Zhou said, “Even my daughter has never done this (buy me a meal and talk with me) before…” There he was, by the steps, luxuriating in the company of a complete Stranger, me, because of what he missed. Our stars collided and it was beautiful. But even then, the beautiful moment was tainted by the remembrance of a time lost, missed and longed for.
I went home that night and thought about the last time I sat down with Dad to talk, talk for hours into the night like we used to-it’s been a while. So there I was, by the steps, luxuriating in the company of a complete Stranger, him, because of what I missed. Our stars collided and it was beautiful. But even then, the beautiful moment was tainted by my own remembrance of a time too long ago, too far back.
So love begins right here, at home.
The world is a beautifully interconnected meshwork of lives, Stories and memories. The individual lives and Stories differ always, but the feelings, the hurts and joys, the complicatedness repeat themselves. Over and over again, the same stars collide in the same broken, complicated places.
Therein lies the beauty, that ultimately because of our sameness, because of the same hurts and joys, we, complete Strangers from completely different families, connect in special ways and are able to understand, empathize, love and touch lives. We are, in spite of our differences, bridges, connections, starstreams spun every instant that collide randomly into each other.
But therein lies, too, the tragedy- that in the beauty of this sugarspun cobweb of special and mysterious connections, is a secret that took us too long to understand. If only every family loved itself deeply, genuinely, wholeheartedly from within, there would lay in this world a lot less grieving, and a lot less need for Strangers to fill in the broken, complicated gaps in our lives.
The collision of starstreams and the spinning of sugarspun cobwebs are beautiful- they really are.
But a lot of those starstreams could be saved from colliding, cobwebs spared from being spun, had we loved the right way from the right place from the beginning, loved starting from Home. It is an unecessary mess.
And risk losing the creation of intricate, randomly-weaved webs and connections you say? Yes, but only because it is simpler, more Beautiful this way.
In this, there is simple beauty and no tragedy therein.
How beautiful it is to see the selflessness of social workers, the radical transformation of deliquents; how beautiful it is to see the understanding of counsellors, the healing of hurting patients; how beautiful it is to see the random acts of kindness, the hearts of complete strangers touched by simple gestures.
But how tragic it is to realise- that deliquents aren’t born- they are driven away from places they could not find love in, Home; that depression isn’t an overnight affair, it grows insidiously, every day, in a place underneath your own roof; that we would be happier, simpler people had we all loved the right way from the right place, Home, right at the very beginning.
So, I am convinced, that love begins right here, at Home. Every family has its own fair share of tangled webs to work through, and if we worked through them, that would be enough. We keep helping, keep loving, keep touching lives outside of our homes, because it is easier to love those whom you do not expect love from. But all griefs, all griefs run from Home- in some way or another. And if only we chose to run Home, to the place of hurts, vengeances and unforgiveness, we would see that the answer, love, lay in the midst of all those cobwebs all along.
Grandpa Zhou wouldn’t need the spare change from passers-by if his son gave him money, wouldn’t desperately need a listening ear if his daughter bought him dinner and stayed to chat with him. We, Grandpa Zhou and I, would then have shared a beautiful moment, untainted by a remembrance of a time lost, missed and longed for. Just a beautiful, simple moment where our stars shone for each other, but didn’t collide in broken, complicated places.
When we love the right way from the right place, our stars can shine without the affair of messy collisions.
We cannot love a Stranger, we cannot truly love a stranger, touch lives, change the world, unless we love and touch those who were destined to love us-our own families, and change ourselves to love them, deeply, genuinely, wholeheartedly- regardless of circumstance or situation.
It took me this long to understand. To truly understand.
Last night Daddy and I talked into the night like the way we used to when I was little. Talking about all sorts of nonsensical and deep things.
I’m going Home now. I’m packing up my things from a makeshift tent in a dingy waterway underneath a bridge of passing Strangers and finally going Home now.
And what unspeakable joy it brings.
Stars are shining.