Author Archives: hafong

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About hafong

Hello! My name is (Leung) Hafong alias Lily Leung. You always say the last name first….that is the Chinese way. That is my partner lurking behind me. Since this is my blog, I won’t mention his name. But this is a rather cool picture. You see me and yet you don’t…sort of the way I feel about myself most of my life. So this blog is a self-exploration, an archeology dig of some sort. My tools…..words of a thousand or so at a sitting. I will try for that.

CURIOSITY AND THE DOG

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Curiosity may have killed the cat but if not for curiosity, I would forever be stuck in the doldrums. I’m already a bit of a hermit except the ‘cat’ or Sheba gets the best of me and lures me out of myself. Then there’s those shoulds and ought tos. I should get out in the world more. I ought to do this and that. What I am is happy that I listen to those shoulds and ought tos. If not for them I would have missed alot of good outings, opportunities and a well rounded life.

If I was to give in to my rathers and do as I please, I would probably languish on the couch all the livelong day. But I was brought up with discipline. I hear those shoulds loud and clear though no one said a word. Sometimes Often it is wretched difficult to even bat my eye lashes but I got to do it. Nobody else can do it for me. I sigh alot. It seems to help, especially if I give it a great big heave-ho. It’s like a push off.

My push off was phoning my mother this morning. I asked if she and my father want to go to the library. It’s my regular outing with them. It’s something I can do for them but sometimes it is hard. Making that phone call makes it easier. Then I’m committed, no ifs and buts.  So fortunate our library has Chinese books. After we get our books, we would go to the mall for coffee. We were lucky today. We ran into a couple of their friends. It was a nice time. I listen to their gossip and their talk about their aches and pains. I am no longer a working nurse so I offer no remedies. Besides, my mother never listens to me, a professional nurse. She would take her friends’ advice over mine. I’ve learned that now. I keep quiet. I’m a good daughter.

Writing this post is not a picnic either. I’m still in the stutter mode. I feel no flow today so it’s hard work. It’s a lot of sighing, muttering and sweating to find the words.  I’m not aiming for a literary award. I’m trying to impart just a wee bit of a reason why you’ll want to read me. So ends another day and my mutterings. Better luck to me tomorrow.

 

A LOGJAM

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Saturday, my favourite day.  It’s the 5th day of the month and the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m back in the groove of my weekly swim and daily mutterings. Sometimes it’s better not to overthink things – the whys, wherefores and hows. I just have to show up and start. It’s better if I’m on time or a little early. That way I have a little breathing space to prepare before hitting the water or the keyboard.

The morning was sunny. My swim went well. The water was warm. I had the pool all to myself. I got my 20 lengths in with time to spare. Unfortunately, my mutterings are not going well. I’m stuck. Can you imagine? The evening is getting on. I want the flow to start. I want to pour out my heart but it is like wringing a dry towel. Nothing comes out. Darn!

I’ve worked too hard today multi-tasking, multi-thinking. All my words and ideas are smashed up against each other like a logjam. I need something to pry everything loose. Some days are like that. Maybe sleep is the tool I need. The day was not a loss. No Eureka! but I got my swim in, drew a hammer and a nail for Inktober 2019 and baked 6 loaves of bread. I’m calling it a day.

DO SOMETHING ELSE

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Autumn is not the best season for me. I could say that about winter, spring and fall, too. Rather than labelling myself with a disorder, I’m choosing to acknowledge that I’m sensitive to weather and seasonal changes. But aren’t we all? We all respond to changes in temperature and light in our own unique ways. Some more than others.

I’m doing much better now than when I was younger. Experience is a good teacher. Being more physically fit makes a huge difference. I’m feeling blessed though I still grumble alot. Well, I do feel so sleepy throughout the day. Sometimes it’s hard to get things done. Good ideas and creativity seem out of reach. My concentration – where the hell did it go? And forgetfulness! Sometimes I feel the need to set a reminder to take my meds. I woke up at 4:am one time and remembered I didn’t take my bedtime hypertensives. Then there’s the crankiness.

I was so cranky this morning at the YWCA. The locker room was so crowded at my usual spot. The women were visiting and talking animately. I could not access my usual locker. I was rather miffed but went to a different row. Why fight the crowd? When I was leaving I received a few ‘looks’ from women who were not used to seeing me there. We are so set and territorial about lockers and seats even when our names are not on them. It’s healthy to upset our apple carts once in awhile.

My apple cart was further upset when I got into the gym for the tabata class. It was abuzz with loud chatter and too many bodies. Equipment were in scarcity. The lights overhead extra bright. My crankiness got cranked up. I curled my lips and bared my teeth. I kept quite though and exited to the weight room instead. Why foist my moody self on unsuspecting innocents, eh?

I was at a loss of what to do at first. I migrated to a treadmill and turned it on low. I worked up to a speed of 3.5 which is nothing to brag about. It was enough to earn a mild sweat after 30 minutes. I broke out in a profuse menopausal soak on the recumbant bike. Even my ears were dripping. I’m embarrassed to say it was less than 10 minutes in broken starts and stops. I finished my hour with 20 minutes of qigong. I felt refreshed and uncranked. All the apples back in my cart.

TO HAVE HONOUR AND COURAGE

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I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard or been told ‘Don’t take it personally’. It always and still does rub me the wrong way. Right away, I feel my ire rising. Right away I start taking it personally. How could I not? It feels like I’m being criticized, reprimanded and being told I’m not ok. I’m the only one taking things personally. Everyone else is perfect. That’s what it feels like when I’m being told. The truth is everyone is very susceptible in taking things personally. How do I know?

Some people might think they are being subtle when they are totally not. You can tell how quickly they take things personally by how fast and when they ‘unfriend’ you. I have been ‘un’ a few times. I heard the click loudly through cyberspace. I felt a stab of bewilderment and hurt with that click. How could I not? I am human. There’s emotions and blood coursing through me. Most of these bewilderment and hurt are minor. They go the way of ‘whatever’. Life and I go on.

Then there’s the other kind, the in my face and not so subtle. Yes, I’m talking about my evil neighbour again. Maybe she is not so evil. She’s finally taught me that there are people who just don’t like me and that they can be mean about it. My mother once told me she could not understand why I have problems with tenants when they have their separate suite and I have mine. It is probably harder for her and other people to understand why I would have problems with neighbours. After all, we live in separate houses with defined boundaries.

I have trouble understanding that myself. Perhaps there is no understanding to be had. I’ve come to understand for now what is meant about not taking it personally. It really is about them, her, my neighbour, whoever it is of the moment. They don’t care for me, my energy, my skin colour, my odour, whatever it is. It really is about their choices, preferences, whatever. I’m ok with all that. As long as they respect me and don’t interfere, cross over my boundaries. As long as they are not deliberately lying, being mean and trying to provoke me for no reason. Then I do take it personally.

I’m on the verge of ranting again. Let me stop now. Let me not take things so personally. There is honour and courage in standing my ground, not responding in kind and still give them due respect. It is turning the other cheek and let their blows glance off. I can do that.

TO DO THINGS WELL

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Here I sit before my keyboard on this second day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m thinking of what useful lesson I have learned to my readers. I have all these thoughts and ideas in my head. What I haven’t learned is how to plan ahead, to make a list of things to talk about. I do almost everything off the cuff on the spur of the moment. I build from the moment that I begin an action. I’m doing just that now. I write a word, as sentence and it builds from there. I haven’t learn another way of doing things.

I did just that with my yard last month. The guy was re-doing our front walk. I watched him breaking up the old cement walk. I saw my perennial beds overgrown with irises and daylilies. I got this itch to dig. It had rained recently and the ground was soft. The call to dig became very strong. Soon, I had all the irises dug up. I started hauling the broken cement around to build new beds. I was successful in this incidence. One thing led to another and I dug up all the daylilies in the other bed. I hauled more broken cement blocks around to create another bed.

Like magic, things fell into order. The irises and lilies were divided. They found new places. I found fruit trees and other perennials on sale. They found homes in the ground before the snow fell on the weekend. I am lucky in this incidence. I couldn’t have done better even if I had planned everything ahead of time. But here on this writing challenge, I am not so fortunate. I am struggling against fatigue, dull thinking and the late hour. This is the lesson I need to learn. To give time in thinking and preparation ahead of time. I believe everything we set out to do is important. If I am going to do something, I should try to do it well.

The hour is late. My eyes are fighting to stay open. Tomorrow, tomorrow is another day. I will try to do better tomorrow.

 

FOR THE MONTH OF OCTOBER

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October 1, another new day, another new month. I’ve been remiss in showing up here in this, my writing space. Hopefully I can show up daily for the month of October to mutter, sigh and bitch about the weather and whatnot. This month I’m writing for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. My rules  are always the same for this challenge and space. They are:

  1. To show up every day.
  2. Truthful and respectful.
  3. Hopeful and helpful.

I’ve had a difficult and challenging September dealing with one of my neighbours. I’ve always had a difficult time all the years she’s lived next to me. But I realized this time that she has given me much insight into myself and human relations. She has taught me many valuable lessons about life and what is important and what is not. It is strange but I am grateful to her for all the miseries coming from her direction. Every cloud does have a silver lining.

For October, I hope to capture the silver linings of those clouds. The sky is cloudy today but my world is lit by the gold and oranges of the autumn leaves. There is much wrong and meanness in the world. There is also much right and kindness in the world. The ying and the yang. I like to concentrate and share the love and kindness and what is right out there. It’s a worthy goal.

 

ONWARD AND FORWARD HO!

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It’s hard to find that great opening line whether it’s to greet a stranger or to start a blog post. I’m happy to say that I’m feeling more like my normal self, though normal is up for debate. I feel as if I’ve had a psychotic episode. It’s like that after each encounter with my difficult neighbour. The time before this was 3 years ago. I’ve slipped in that she tricks me into engaging with her. I pay for it whenever I do that. There are no two sides. There is only one – hers. I’ve had to relearn my lesson over again. I am not 100% fool proof. This video is a great reminder for me.

In the same way, Pema Chodron is a great teacher. She shows up when I most need to hear her gentle powerful words. I’m reminded to look at things in a different way. I remember a photography class where our instructor told us, Don’t forget to look behind you as well to get a different view. Now I’m trying to reframe how I see my troublemaker neighbour as an opportunity – to develop patience. The incidence has shown me the benefits of my sitting meditation practice. I’ve been faithfully doing 20 minutes every morning for the last couple of months. Though I have been stressed and distraught, I have had less negative physical and mental impact on me this time around. I can testify that I’ve been tested and tried. Meditation, being mindful is good for me. So, onward and forward ho!

 

 

THE WAY I FEEL

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Suffice to say that I am not rolling on the floor with abounding peace and joy. At times my eyes leak with tears of frustration and sadness. It is also true for me to say that I am happy and satisfied with my lot. I am, as they say, going through a phase. This, too, shall pass away.

That was 5 or 6 days ago. I haven’t found the time, heart nor energy to return to this space. It was a very dreary cloudy morning. The house was dark, giving semblance to my inner feelings.  I gave up on tapping out my misery on the keyboard for working in the kitchen. I sorted all the beans in the fridge, washed, blanched and froze them. I can’t remember what else I did but that I felt proud accomplishing so much in the morning. Ah! now I remember. I baked a dozen rhubarb raspberry muffins, made lunch and headed off to my class at the University of Saskatchewan.

It drizzled light rain that whole day. I parked off campus. It was a long walk to the Arts Building, made that much longer by going in the wrong direction. That’s me, forever lost. This time sporting an umbrella and on foot. I almost gave up. I almost headed back to my car. But I remembered Mina, my blogger friend at Suddenly Mad. She’s still venturing out into the world despite her early-onset Alzheimer’s. So I tried a little harder, one foot in front of the other. I got there 1/2 hour late. Someone else was even later after me. We did not miss much. It was very much worth the effort.

It is almost a week later. I am tapping and sipping coffee in the warmth of the afternoon. Sheba is at my feet. We are enjoying summer’s last hurrah on the deck. My mind is somewhat settled but not quite at peace. I find it difficult to tend to my usual life. I do whatever is possible which is mostly digging in the dirt and hauling the concrete urbanite around to create my contemplative garden. Then there’s my daily walk with Sheba and mucking around the kitchen. Muffins are getting to be my specialty. My sourdough venture was a life saver, too.

And now it is late evening. I feel my physical and mental fatigue. Most of all, I feel my anger. I feel anger towards my neighbour and her like. I can still hear her saying to me, ‘Don’t think you can keep me out. I can tear down anything you put up.’ Can you imagine someone saying that to you about your own property? I can’t imagine her daring to say that to me if my skin was white. Though she feels I owe her access to my property, she refuses my access to hers for the fence guys to erect a fence. Yes, I am angry that the city does not get involved with private property line when they have so many bylaws and when I have a surveyor’s certificate.

I have lived most of my life in Canada, my adopted country. All of that life up to now, I have lived unconscious of my skin colour. I have never cried prejudice nor use it as an excuse for mishaps and misfortunes. But today I do very much feel that the skin of my colour invites many unpleasant treatments and comments. Today I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m feeling defeated by it all. Perhaps I shall feel better in the morning.

A MONKEY WRENCH

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So I come to this space to bitch and complain again about how unfair it all is. I want to lay down, throw a tantrum on the floor, kick my legs up and down and scream. I didn’t do any of that but I felt as if I had. What I did was I called 911 and then the police because it wasn’t a life threatening emergency. It felt like one. You would know how it is if you’ve lived next to someone like my neighbour for 12 years.

It’s really difficult to safeguard oneself against a social path 100% of the time. I am upset with myself that I let her get under my skin. But what can I do when she’s right in my face, baiting me? My attempt to walk away when she started removing my flat rocks from around my freshly planted juniper failed . She threw in a monkey wrench in my policy of no reaction whatsoever. When she started calling out to me that she has public access to my property 3 feet  beyond the property line and that she has the rights to remove any barrier got to me. She stated that she has studied the bylaws well and she knows many people at city hall and the police dept. Then she accused me of giving her 2 parking tickets and setting up a mouse trap to get her. Oh yes, I mustn’t forget our ‘weeds’. She named all the neighbours that hate the ‘weeds’ in our yard. She hates our ‘weeds’ and has a right to come and weed 3 feet into our yard.

How is it possible for me to give her 2 parking tickets? I’m not the meter maid and there’s no meter on her driveway. As far as the mouse trap, my partner did find one on our property but we did not put it there. She’s accused him of storing bicycle parts under our deck a problem for attracting mice. I felt trapped as how to deal with the woman. I decided to cross the street to a neighbour who she’s friendly with for help/witness to this situation. She promptly told me he’s not home today. It did not surprise me. She always chose times when I’m alone to ‘talk’ to me.

My guy was in the house having his lunch. I rung the doorbell to get him to come out and to bring my phone. What I should have done was to yell help to scare her off instead of engaging with her. By this time, she had removed my cement blocks I had put to support the trellis I put up between my house and the fence to keep her out and my dog from running into the front yard. It was silly of me that we could get her to listen. I asked her to repeat for my partnership what she had said to me – her right to access our property. By this time I’ve got my phone to record her. Not a good plan or I wasn’t smart at it. She tried to grab it from me. Good thing she had a cup in her other hand.

The moral of the story is, it is not at all worth it because here I am at 4 am. Still unable to sleep. The policewoman did give me a phone number to check up on the said bylaws and to call the police if she is moving and taking things on my property. And the only answer I got at the number was a recording. Instead of just stewing, I’ve sent off an email to city hall, the bylaws depart. It’s good to get the facts from the right people even though it sounds like she’s bluffing.

I think I’m done. I hope I can let it go now. I know the right thing to do is to let it go. But people, it is not easy. What I know for sure is I can not engage with her. I know for sure is that I’m the one that looks bad when I react. I cannot have a normal conversation with her. I will have my phone with me when I’m working in the yard. It is a pity that I cannot enjoy the peace and beauty of my own yard. I’m redoing my perennial beds, digging up my irises and daylilies to divide and relocate. I hope I will get some rest. I have plans for a morning swim and work on my sourdough bread. It will be a 2 day affair and my first one.

FEEDING OSCAR

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What strange times we are in. So many things we cannot count on – the weather, people, peace and equanimity. This is the summer that wasn’t. Already it feels like October. The furnace kicked in on a couple of cool mornings. The thunder and rains came early in the morning before we rose. All day the clouds reined. The rains came again at supper time. Sheba and I were lucky. We had our walk and had time to harvest a few beans, strawberries and tomatoes from the garden.

I’m feeling fortunate that I am not feeling ‘under’ with the weather. I’m feeling quite on top of things, filled with a wee bit of vim and vigour. Knock on wood. It’s not just luck. I’ve been working on myself, doing my own reconstruction workshop. I hate feeling poorly, don’t you? I’ve been chipping away parts of myself that I do not like. It’s not easy. Old habits die hard. Mostly it is about old habits. It’s so much easier to go the well rutted way than to find different routes. It’s taken me these many days and ways to do it.

It starts with recognizing how I don’t want to feel. And then seeing how I always react to those feelings. When I always react the same way, then I always get the same results. Simple math. Choosing to act different is not so simple. I had to swallow my pride and stubborness. They’re big lumps and hard to go down. I had to tell myself that it’s the right thing to do over and over. Practice does make for easier. It takes time for it to take hold and feel natural. I’m getting better and feeling better. That’s probably what’s giving me vim and vigor.

Having projects keeps me buoyed. I’m learning to make sourdough bread. I’m inspired by Zero-Waste Chef. The whole process looks very slow and complicated. It’s enough to discourage me but it hasn’t. I’m looking at it as a science experiment, taking one step at a time. It’s not like me at all. Mind you, I’m only 6 days in. I’m still excited. My starter came alive yesterday. I have to feed it every day now. I named it Oscar. I check on him numerous times a day to watch him at work, munching and making bubbles. I much rather use my energy and time to feed Oscar than all those negative emotions of depression, anger, envy, jealousy and what-have-you of the past. Maybe I will have a loaf of bread to share in the near future.