Holding On by Letting Go – Another Love Story

Three years ago today, I died. I’m not sure how it happened exactly, but I’m guessing it was an accident and that it happened quickly. After all, I was young, just 22 years old at the time, and quite healthy. The last thing I remember is that I was on the bus, heading home to visit my parents for Chinese New Year. I remember I was nervous because I was planning to tell them about my girlfriend for the first time. We had been together for just 6 months at that time, but we were very much in love and already thinking of marriage. At just 22 years of age and only together for 6 months, I worried that my parents would not be supportive, but I had to try.

Since the day I died, I have no memories and no awareness of any sort of existence. A few minutes ago, I suddenly became aware of myself, that I was able to have thoughts. I have no body, but I have some ability to perceive my surroundings. Without a body, I have no eyes to see, but I still know where I am and what’s around me. It’s hard to explain, but you can attempt to understand if you imagine being in a very familiar place. In fact, you can even try this out. Go someplace that is very familiar to you and take a careful look around. Then close your eyes and picture what you just saw in your head. Turn your head from side to side and imagine what you would see if your eyes were open.

This is what it was like when my mind first awoke a while ago. I have no head to turn from side to side, but still I can know my surroundings. I have no ears to hear, but in the same way I know what sounds are being made in the vicinity. I have no nose to smell, but just as you can imagine a smell, I knew that my favorite dish was being prepared. The scent of beef together with my favorite spices woke me up and filled my mind. But where was it coming from?

I sensed that I was in my parents house, in the room reserved as a family shrine. Incense had been lit, and the scent of it mixed together with the scent of the meal. How sweet it was! Suddenly, I knew that my mother was there. She was almost the same as I remembered her, but more tired somehow. In her hands, she held the bowl of food which she gently placed on the shelf she and my father had prepared to remember me. I never thought I would have a place in that room.

“You have a visitor today,” my Mom murmured softly. If I had been there bodily, I would not have been able to hear her words, but I could clearly feel what she wanted to say. A visitor?

And then there she was. The girl I had never had the chance to introduce to my parents. The girl I had fallen in love with so deeply. The girl I still felt an intense love for though I knew so much time had passed. Linyi. How was she here?

“I’ll give you some time,” my mother said softly as she headed out the way she had come in.

“Thank you,” said my girlfriend, Linyi, to my mother as she walked past. She was so beautiful still, but like my mother, she looked tired. Where had all of her endless energy gone? I had always struggled to keep up with her great exuberance for life. But now, she seemed exhausted. Where was the light that had always been there in her eyes? The last three years had clearly taken some great toll on her.

Linyi stood before my shrine and looked at the picture of me that had been placed there. Her eyes started to water, and I ached to hold her. Please don’t be sad, I thought, but it was clear that she could not sense my thoughts at all.

“Why Guowei? Why did you have to leave me?” The tears rolled down her cheeks. Of course I had no response. Even if she could sense me, what could I say? I had no memory of my own death, but I knew I had not chosen it. All I knew is that despite everything, I still loved her and I knew that I always would.

From her bag, she pulled out some more scented joss sticks. She carefully lit them with those already lit and then bowed her head. I know she had never really believed in these traditions before, but her actions at this time seemed genuine. She very much wanted me to know that she was there. Is that why I was able to wake up?

No sound escaped her lips as she began to pray, but I could sense her emotion as she expressed the feelings of her heart. Perhaps because they were directed at me, I was able to sense what she wanted me to know. Sometimes in words or images, and sometimes in pure feelings and emotions, I felt the intent of Linyi’s prayer. After I had died, she had withdrawn from the world and had gone into a deep depression. She had dropped out of school and gone back to live with her parents, locking herself in her room most of the time. If I had been able to cry, I would have been weeping for the pain she had endured. I had no memory of experiencing pain in death, but it is the living that suffer. If only I could do something for her.

Then Linyi explained the purpose of her seeking out my family and coming to visit me on the anniversary of my death. She wanted to move on. “I’m so sorry,” she expressed in words. “I will always love you. You know that. But you’re gone now, … and I’ve been so lonely.” Her emotions overwhelmed her again for a minute before she was able to continue.

“Please let me go,” she pleaded. “Let me go.” She took a deep breath trying to keep her composure and to finish what she had started. “I just feel so guilty every time I talk to another guy,” she admitted, “but I don’t want to be alone anymore!”

I tried to absorb the words she had spoken. What was she asking me to do? What could I do? Could I really let her go? Could I accept that she might want to be with someone else? That she might get married to another guy? That she might have children with someone else? Could I agree to that?

At first, my mind screamed no. How could she want to be with someone else? Didn’t she love me still? I loved her so much. Didn’t she understand that? I did love her. I do love her.

And as I reflected on that love that I had and have for her still, and as I felt her pain in this moment and reflected on the suffering she had endured for the past three years, I knew that I must do as she asked. How could I not? But how could I give her my answer?

All I could do was try. I could imagine every other sense, so why not touch? I imagined how it would feel to hold her in my arms one last time. As I imagined it, I felt like it was true. I felt the warmth of her body and the beating of her heart. As I held her, I directed every feeling of love that I had into her being. And with that love, I sent my approval. Because I loved her, I would let her go. I would be happy with her happiness and rejoice in the future joys she might experience. I willed her to understand my feelings.

“Oh Guowei,” she cried. “Thank you.” I knew that she had received my gift to her. I could see light returning to her eyes and she seemed to stand a little straighter. Her energy seemed to rise within her and color returned to her face. I felt warm as well, as I saw the effect I had had on her. That warmth continued to increase, and with it I felt sleep coming on again. Would I wake again or was this my final end? I couldn’t say, but I was not unhappy. The warmth of my love for her was still alive within me, and I believed that even in sleep, it would continue.

My Encounter With a Taiwan Cobra

In April of last year, I took a walk around the back side of the university. As usually happens, I got a bit lost in thought and wasn’t paying particularly good attention to where I was stepping. If you could have seen me, I probably had my head up looking at the leaves of the trees with what I hope would be a thoughtful expression on my face. On that day though, I was suddenly distracted by the sound of rustling leaves at my feet and I looked down to see what was causing it. A snake slithered past me, easily within striking distance if it had had such a desire.

Wikipedia’s image of a Chinese or Taiwan Cobra

I’d seen many snakes in my life, but this was the first time I had seen one with a hood. Cobra! Fortunately, the cobra seemed more intent on escaping than on attacking me. I stopped suddenly in my tracks as the cobra put some distance between us. As it moved away, it’s hood seemed to disappear and I wondered if in the excitement of seeing a snake so close, I had only imagined the hood. Maybe it hadn’t really been a cobra at all.

I climbed up onto the short wall beside the path and tried to catch up to the snake. I wanted to know what kind of snake this really was. As I approached, there was no mistaking it. The hood flared and my certainty increased. I felt lucky to have escaped the encounter unharmed, though I continued to follow it for a minute or two. Eventually, the cobra found a hole in the broken cement of the path and disappeared into it. You can see the path and the hole in the picture below. This picture was taken in the winter though, and its thick cover of leaves had been swept away not long before. I’ll have to take another picture of the path when the leaves are there.

My walking path – without leaves

Anyway, it took a while before I was ready to walk on that path again. When I found out that there were cobras living there, it became harder to enjoy the peace of mind I sought during my walks. Gradually though, I was able to regain my calm and to enjoy myself along that route. But now, I try to keep a much better eye on the path in front of me and especially where I’m stepping.

The Lie I Tell My Students

There is a story I tell to at least half of all the classes I teach. I just wish it were as true as I make it sound. I’ll start here by telling the truth, and then I’ll explain how I change the story for my students. I arrived in Taiwan for the first time on a Thursday in the Summer of 2004. I was met at the airport by a representative of the company that hired me and taken to a hotel in Taichung to wait. There would be several interviews, four in Taipei and one in Miaoli, to determine which school I would teach at.

As I waited at the hotel though, I became bored rather quickly. I was in Taiwan for the first time and all I was doing was watching American movies on the television in a cheap hotel room. I decided that I needed to get out and see the city. I wanted to be able to attend church on Sunday, but I wasn’t sure how to get there. I hadn’t known exactly where I would be once I arrived in Taiwan and so I hadn’t been able to look beforehand. Somehow though, I was able to find out the address of the mission home. I don’t remember how I managed that feat now.

With the address in my pocket, I walked down to the hotel lobby. There were maps available and as I saw it was raining lightly outside, I also bought a cheap umbrella. I studied the map for a while, and was able to find the street. As I wasn’t familiar with Taiwan in the slightest, I had no idea how far away it actually was. The map may have shown distances, but I don’t think I cared too much. I like walking anyway.

As I started walking the rain was still fairly light, but the wind kept picking up suddenly and then dying down just as fast. I had a difficult time figuring out which direction to hold the umbrella in as rain would hit me from the side at times. The day was warm though and I had nothing that couldn’t get wet, so I walked on and didn’t worry about the strange weather. After some time had passed though, the rain really started to come down hard while the wind continued to blow strongly from this direction or that. It didn’t take long before I became completely drenched.

I don’t remember how far I had gotten when I discovered that what I was beginning to experience was actually a typhoon. Welcome to Taiwan! I didn’t feel that this storm was dangerous though, so I went ahead and walked the whole hour or so to the mission home. I was glad to discover that the door was open and I was welcomed inside. As I poured out the water from my shoes and wiped the water from my face, I chatted for a while with the missionaries that served there. I learned that the church building was right beside the mission home. I can’t remember much more of what we discussed while I was there, but I believe I spent at least 10 or more minutes recovering from an hour of walking through a typhoon. Eventually though, there was nothing more to do there and I felt like I was distracting people from their work, so I left, grateful that I had managed to find the building at all.

I vaguely remember my walk home that day. I remember that the rain would go from being very heavy to very light and the wind varied drastically as well from one moment to the next. My umbrella blew out a few times and I decided that it was easier to just close it and walk in the rain than to try and hold it open. It was a great adventure, but I was alone, and I didn’t speak any Chinese to anyone.

When Sunday came around, the typhoon had passed and the walk was much easier. I enjoyed church services and met many friendly people. I was invited by some of the young singles there to join in an activity that evening, but as my hotel was an hour away, I wasn’t sure what to do until then. Among the people I met was a young guy named Kevin. I remember him being about the same age as most of my students now, maybe 19 or 20. He invited me to come to his house until the activity would start several hours later.

I accepted his invitation and went with Kevin to his home. I remember that that was my first opportunity to ride on a scooter, and I was a bit scared, though I tried not to show it. Traffic in Taiwan can be pretty crazy, and riding on the back of a scooter behind someone I really didn’t know at all didn’t make me feel much better. Kevin assured me though that I would be safe, and so I was.

For at least several hours, I stayed with Kevin in his home. I think he probably lived there with his parents or others because I remember someone supplying snacks and drinks. I can’t remember those details though. What I do remember though is the joy of trying to communicate with my very limited Chinese. I don’t think Kevin’s English was even as good as my terrible Chinese, so we used Chinese for the most part, or at least that’s how I’ve chosen to remember it. We used a notebook and we both drew a lot of pictures as we struggled to communicate with one another. I think my Chinese made some improvement during that time, and my confidence in my ability to speak Chinese certainly went up. (For a similar experience, see The Most Effective Language Teacher)

That’s basically the end of the story that involves the part I tell students. Of course, life went on and I had my several interviews and ended up being able to choose Miaoli where my boyfriend lived. It seemed like a miracle, but I don’t tell that part to my students. In fact, the version I tell my students is much simpler, leaving out all sorts of details.

In the story I tell my students, I’m not trying to walk to the mission home, I’m just bored and felt like going for a walk, which is at least part of the truth actually. I definitely mention the typhoon though. They always find that entertaining. The reason I share the story at all though is to talk about my experience with Kevin, so I usually skip to that part as quickly as I can. I’m walking in the typhoon and Kevin sees me and invites me in out of the rain. That is certainly not true, but it allows me to go from walking in a typhoon to having a great language learning experience in the shortest possible time.

From there, I tell the truth about how Kevin and I communicated using Chinese with English words mixed in. I mention drawing pictures and using gestures. I talk about how we talked together for several hours despite my very low level of spoken Chinese. This is the point of the story. I want my students to make the same effort to practice their English. I want them to stop using their low English proficiency as an excuse to keep their mouths closed and to instead realize that they already have a high enough level to communicate if they are only willing to try hard enough. All of my students, because of the way the students are sorted into my classes, already have a higher level than I did when I had my experience with Kevin, and I had a very enjoyable time despite my low level.

The truth is still an interesting story, but it just takes too long to tell. If I cut directly to my experience with Kevin, it lacks the power to grab students’ attention. The typhoon makes such a great opening that I can’t see leaving that out, but then I want to get to my conversation with Kevin as soon as possible .. and so I lie. Although I am generally for telling the truth, I have never really felt guilty about this particular lie. What do you think? Is this kind of lie wrong? Maybe I should make a disclaimer at the start of each telling that some details may be manipulated for a better experience. Oh well. I’ve told the modified version so many times that I have started to see that version in my memories. I wanted to write the truth here before it is completely taken over by the story. I guess I could direct my students here to read the true story, at least as far as I’ve remembered it correctly. But then, what if I’ve remembered it wrong in the first place? Could this all be wrong altogether? Or maybe the short version is the true version, and I’ve only imagined the longer version? Telling the truth can sure be complicated sometimes.

The Day I Saved the World (just having some fun)

I was sitting at my desk trying to decide what to do about a girl in one of my classes. She hadn’t been very diligent for most of the semester, but then toward the end she suddenly put forth a lot of effort in order to try and somehow get a passing grade. After finishing adding up all of the numbers, I looked at the result of her last ditch effort: 58.1 percent. For me to even consider letting someone pass, the number has to be at least 58 percent or higher, but having 58 percent was no guarantee that I would pass a student, especially one like Nellie who had little to no actual interest in the subject of the course. I chose to leave the grade alone. 58 percent it would stay. And believe it or not, that is how I saved the world.

Two days later, Nellie went online to check her grades. Pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, FAIL. How could this be? She knew she had done everything right. She had done just enough homework. Her test grades couldn’t have been that bad. She had only missed 3 or 4 classes.. okay maybe it was 5. But no other teacher had failed her. He just doesn’t like me, she thought about her teacher. What’s wrong with him? Feeling a little sad and confused, Nellie left the library where she had been sitting and began walking home.

Kevin was a rather friendly 16 year old boy. On this particular Saturday, he just happened to be out in front of his home to get the mail when he saw an older girl approaching along the sidewalk. Her eyes were down and she looked somewhat dejected. Usually, Kevin wouldn’t try to approach someone he didn’t know, but something in her melancholy appearance emboldened him and he stood by his mailbox, trying to appear nonchalant.

As Nellie came past the front of Kevin’s home, she saw the slightly younger boy standing there, probably trying to look cool. She had seen this before. After all, she was rather attractive, even if she thought so herself. He wasn’t such a bad looker either, she noticed. Their eyes met. Kevin smiled first. “Hi,” he greeted her shyly, his cheeks appearing suddenly flushed.

“Hello,” said Nellie, walking right past Kevin but smiling as she did so. She wasn’t going to stop for a boy that wasn’t even in college yet. He deserved the smile though and she gave him one of her best. She didn’t look back to see his reaction, but the smile on her own face remained for a few minutes afterward. In fact, from there until she arrived at her apartment, the spring returned to her step and her arms swung wider with her more energetic pace.

Before Nellie reached her apartment though, she passed by a small park with several large maple trees. A light breeze through the top of one of those tall maple trees had just released a flurry of seeds twirling down toward the ground. At the moment one of those seeds seemed destined to hit the road and have no chance at survival, Nellie walked past. The slight breeze caused by her swinging arm sent the small seed back toward the park and into an ideal spot of moist earth, not far from the road. There, over the next twenty years, it would take root and grow into a large and beautiful maple like its parent.

Unfortunately, the shallow roots of the maple tree caused some damage to the road and no one seemed to notice for many years. The damage served as a natural speed bump and many of the local residents appreciated the positive influence it had on the safety of their neighborhood, not to mention the tree’s spectacular beauty.

One night, just after a late New Year’s Eve party, a man had had a little too much to drink and hit the damaged road with excessive speed. As his car just about went off the road, the man over-corrected and swerved back the other way, hitting another car head-on. Both drivers died as a result.

Well, this might seem like a tragedy at this point, but as it turns out, the driver of the other vehicle was a would-be serial killer who was on his way to murder his first victim, a pretty teenaged girl named Kris. After killing Kris, this murderer would have gone on to kill 17 other young women or girls in the space of just two years before he would get caught and sent to prison. Fortunately, none of those murders ever occurred.

At this point, the story gets quite complicated. Many of these 18 women went on to have children of their own. Over a dozen families came into being that could not have ever had a chance if those women had died early. The number of ways in which the world changed continued to increase and would soon become impossible for anyone to count. Children grew up and had more children. What started as 18 saved lives grew to 45 fairly quickly, and that number continued to rise as the years went by. My own granddaughter would eventually marry one of these descendants.

But anyway, I think you must agree that my action that day changed the world. You might even say I saved the world. If I hadn’t given Nellie that poor grade, she would not have been so sad when she saw it. If she hadn’t been so sad, Kevin would not have tried to talk to her. If that boy had not cheered her up, Nellie would not have influenced that seed the way she did. If that seed had not landed in exactly that spot at exactly that time, it would not have become the beautiful road-cracking tree it eventually became. If the road had not been damaged by the tree, that serial killer would have lived to kill those 18 women. If those women had died, then all of the influence they and their descendants had on the world would never have been. This would be a different world at that point, and as time continued to pass, the world would become more and more different from the way it is. Aren’t you glad I saved it?

Never Underestimate the Power of a Smile

(I’ll probably move this to my stories section later, but for now, I thought I’d put it here. I had a little bit of time to kill before I came home from work today, and this is what I did with it.)

---

“Shut up! I mean it,” said Lucia, though the gleam of her eyes betrayed the fact that she was quite enjoying the interaction.

“I knew it!” Carin rejoiced loudly with renewed certainty. “You do like him. There was no way I just imagined it.”

“You can’t tell anybody! Okay? Keep it down.” Lucia hissed, looking around nervously. “If he finds out, I’ll just..”

“You’ll just what?” asked Carin more quietly. “I bet you two would make a great couple!”

“Oh come on! We’ve worked at the same place for a month already and he’s barely even looked me in the eye. I just know he hates me,” moaned Lucia.

“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t really know you yet. You’ve just got to .. you know .. get in his face more .. but in a good way.”

Lucia groaned as if in pain and then rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’d work. Why don’t I just walk right into him? He’ll know I exist, but he’ll think I’m a klutz. Ugggh. Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work. Please don’t say anything about this. Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah. I promise. I won’t say anything. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” The two young women stood up from the bench where they had been sitting and each gave a small wave of their hands as they parted ways for the day.

Five minutes later, Lucia was back at her post, keeping her eyes open for any customers that might need some assistance. Today was a rather slow day though and customers were few and far between. It was about time to change out the winter clothes for warmer fashions, but that wasn’t her job today. No, her job was to stay vigilant. All of the clothing was either folded or hanging nicely. The floor was spotless having recently been cleaned. And oh yeah, there was Erik Matherson, looking oh so cool, just across the aisle. He seemed to be chatting casually with a customer about a watch in one of the display cases. Why couldn’t she just stop watching him?

Even turning away though, she could still see his pale blue eyes in her mind, radiating intelligence. She could imagine his soft blonde hair with its gentle curls. She could see the way he stood confidently as he interacted with customers. He always seemed so knowledgeable, though she could not actually hear the words he spoke from where she stood. She imagined that he was always kind and quite considerate. As long as she never actually met him, she could never be disappointed. Still, if he could only see her for once!

Lucia was interrupted from her thoughts as she felt someone walking past her from behind. She hadn’t noticed anybody nearby. As she turned, she saw a middle-aged Asian man brushing his hands across the sleeves of a few sweaters. The man saw her turn and gave her one of the most radiant smiles she had ever seen. As if by magic, she felt a smile forming on her own face. She wasn’t one to smile so easily, but this man’s smile was so genuine and lacking in any form of guile that she just couldn’t help herself.

Across the aisle, Erik’s customer had just left. He lifted his eyes to see if there were any other potential customers in the vicinity, and he saw the Asian man passing through Lucia’s area. He hadn’t really thought much of Lucia before, but as he watched the customer turn to greet her, Erik saw a sight which held him transfixed. Lucia’s smile was dazzling and her whole face was transformed by its light. It was as if a light within shone through her skin, and her eyes were absolutely stunning. Who was this beautiful girl? It couldn’t be Lucia. She never smiled. She was dull and uninteresting.

As the Asian man continued on his way however, Erik continued to watch the girl’s face. Gradually the smile faded and he was able to recognize her as Lucia once again.

For the rest of that day, Erik couldn’t stop thinking about how she had looked in that moment that was far too fleeting. That night, he saw her smile again in his dreams and that smile continued to light up his mind. He saw her gleaming hazel eyes and her dark hair that seemed to take on a greater luster as it reflected the light of her face. Why hadn’t he ever seen her before, he wondered. The next day, Erik returned to work, determined to see that smile again. Whatever it took, Erik had decided; such beauty should not stay hidden within.

Opportunity Taken and the Word “Boyfriend”

(Before reading this post, you should read Missed Opportunity? if you haven’t already.)

In my class this morning, I gave my students the opportunity to earn some extra credit by asking me questions. Depending on the class and their level of curiosity, this can be a fun activity for the students. The students in today’s class are more quiet than in most of my other classes, but I still got a few interesting questions. I can’t remember all of the questions now, but the second question was regarding how I met my wife – an opportunity.

I knew I had to answer this question in the right way this time, to stop telling only one half of the story, but I was suddenly so nervous with this realization. My hands began to shake and I could feel my pulse quicken. I’m not in the closet anymore. I have to get over the fear of sharing this part of me.

In the 10 years since my wife and I got married, I have been asked about how we met many many times. I have practiced telling it and I think I have gotten quite good at sharing it in an interesting and even humorous way. Students usually laugh and smile and enjoy the story quite much. Today was different. I hesitated. I stumbled over my words. I trembled. I had wanted this opportunity, but it was harder to take than I had anticipated.

I never actually used the word “gay” in my story, but it became pretty obvious that that’s what I was when I replaced the word “friend” with “boyfriend”. The feeling of the whole story changes drastically with the addition of that minor prefix “boy-”. I’ve used the word before with individuals, but never in front of a group before. Even now, over 2 hours later, I am still shaking, but maybe I just didn’t eat enough for breakfast.

Now that the experience is over, I realize I still didn’t tell the whole story. I guess because I included a part I had never said before, I tried to keep it shorter by leaving out other parts. Anyway, I believe that with practice this will get easier. I’ll figure out what parts matter to the story and which parts don’t. Unfortunately, for those that don’t like that I’m gay, the fact that I had a boyfriend matters to the story and is a pervasive theme throughout. I can’t leave that out anymore.

In addition to learning how to tell the story, I also need to learn how to deal with the various reactions to it. They’re not all smiles anymore. The reactions are much more mixed and I have to learn how to deal with that and to accept it. I had never realized before how much I could learn and understand about a person by observing their facial expressions in the moment I say the word “boyfriend” and in the seconds following. I look forward to learning more.