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.

DEATH BY CHOPSTICKS

Posted on July 25, 2014 by hafong

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright – Marie Gail Stratford

Fred’s tray was full – a Double Big Mac, Chicken Nuggets, double fries, a large root beer. and a free Premium salad with a coupon. What a yummy deal of a meal! He can’t wait to bite into it.

Mmmmm! Looks good, taste great. What’s this nonsense about McDonald’s meat not fit for humans? Who is Chef Jamie Oliver? He should mind his own business.

That kid better stop pounding on that toy piano. Annoyed, he muttered, “Chopsticks! I’ll chop…”

He stopped mid sentence, sweat breaking over his blue face, eyes glazing over while the tinny strain of Chopsticks played on.

image from Google search

MESSAGE RECEIVED AND PROCESSED

Posted on July 24, 2014 by hafong

Thunder rumbled and crackled. Then the rain came – for a minute or two. It was a dramatic sound display.

Now we are left with the heat, humidity and mosquitoes. I am in a bad mood. I hope no one expects lunch any time soon. I am sapped of energy. Sheba is lucky she got walked. I can blame it on the positive ions left from the thunder. Everyone knows that they are not great for our moods and well being.

I have to admit that I am not known for my pleasing disposition, even as a child. Funny how some things stick in your mind.

The aunties in our village and my paternal grandmother were always telling me I was a grumpy girl and that no man would marry me. My mother never told me that. But the message took hold. And that was how I always thought of myself. I often warned people of my grumpiness – that it was me, not them that was the problem. I turned sour and defiant inside.

These aunties and my grandmother would later tell me again that no man will have me because of the scar sustained from a burn. It was big but on the inside of my left arm. It was not readily noticeable.

I could not remember a time without the scar. I was quite self conscious of it, wearing long sleeves and sweaters even in the heat of summer. I hid it by holding my arm close to my body. In a family photo shortly before we left Hong Kong, I was noticeably turning my arm to hide my scar. There were times I wondered how my life would be different if my arm was smooth and whole. But I could not conjure it up. The gnarled scar tissue stared back at me.

I outgrew my sensitivity when I became a nurse. The uniforms were short-sleeved. It was too much effort to be self conscious, trying to hide my scar. I flaunted it and joked about it. Eventually it ceased to be an issue.

Today, I see how vain I was. So many people are walking around with bigger and more visible scars than mine. But I realize that I was but a child then, sensitive and easily impressed. Now, I know the adults were not trying to be mean. They were just talking without thought, not knowing how their words affected me.

I had no voice then, but now I do and I am talking.

THE YIN AND THE YANG/ SENSE AND NONSENSE

Posted on July 23, 2014 by hafong

Sometimes I am immobilized by those ‘light bulb moments’, when I see the truth staring at me in glaring black and white. You know those Kodak moments, don’t you? I am blessed/cursed with them at the same time. I do not want to see the raw naked truth. I rather not be in the know. And that is the honest truth. Is there any other kind?

I am a bit melancholy with a bit of wine and the truth. Life looks better through rose-tinted glasses or in the dark sometimes. I am talking through my yin yang, of course. You would have to take what I say with a grain of salt. Do you know that I knew time before electricity? Yes, that is correct.

I saw my first electric light bulb when I was six. My mother and I were overnighting in a hotel in Canton, en route to Hong Kong. I had fallen asleep early in the evening. When my mother shook me at dawn, I opened my eyes to a bright light dangling from the ceiling. It was truly an Oprah light bulb moment

Do you know that I see ghosts, too, that is, when I was a child. I no longer see them now that I am all grown up. But I feel them still. They are my friends, my angels. I have learned to trust them, that they are here to look out for me.

I remembered seeing them when I was playing on our rooftop in China. I saw them standing beside my bed at night before I went to sleep. I asked my mother, Who are all the people? My mother saw that there was no one there. She said, “They’re our ancestors. Do not be afraid.”

I wasn’t afraid until I grew up. Then I started to cross my slippers by my bedside. One of my friends told me that would keep them away. And it worked! They visited me only on those nights I forgot to cross my slippers.

They do not visit me any more in the same way. I sense them when I am quiet and still. They let me know their presence when I am in need. I am no longer afraid as an adult. I am truly grown up.

It is now almost the bewitching hour. Time to stop babbling about light bulbs, ghosts and such. It is time to put the memories away and get ready for sleep and sweet dreams.

IS IT TRUE?

Posted on July 22, 2014 by hafong

Yesterday, I discovered exercise was the best medicine for my nervous jumping heart. I was grateful for the loud music next door that pushed me onto my bike. It was nice my SO (Significant Other) accompanied me. We headed off to the library.

I kept my nervousness to myself. No point voicing it, giving it strength. I inhaled and exhaled. I pedalled, pumping my legs up and down. I saw them as pistons firing smoothly, moving the blood through my heart chambers, then out to the rest of my body. I was safe.

We are at the library. I find 2 books by my favourite kick-ass author, Janet Evanovich, Notorious Nineteen and Smokin’ Seventeen. The titles alone give off more energy than spinach. Look out, Popeye! Wait, I’m not done yet. Here is Olivia Chow’s memoir, My Journey waiting for me. I hope she will win the mayorship of Toronto. That Rob Ford need to be ousted. You must know who he is. He has been talked about on all the late shows in the U.S.A. – Kimmel, Letterman, Jon Stewart….

I found Amy Tan’s The Valley of Amazement in the next aisle. I discovered her through the movie, The Joy Luck Club. Reading her memoir, The Opposite of Fate, was like finding myself. I recognized myself in her, my mother in her mother Daisy. The lives of Chinese immigrants in America had the same familiar ringtone – even Olivia Chow’s. I felt that Amy and Olivia were like my sisters.

I found one more book I could not resist – Byron Katie’s I Need Your Love – Is That True? I know, I know. I wasn’t going to read any more self-help books for awhile but who could resist a topic like love. And she asked a good question, Is it true?

photo curtesy of Rod McLaren

Now I am done. We load my treasures in my SO’s cargo bike and head for home. I am relaxed, breathing in and out, pedalling easy and steady, not rushing, not worrying, not anxious. My heart is in its place. It’s pumping rhythmically in even strokes. It’s singing that everything is fine. And it is true.

THE RHYTHM METHOD

Posted on July 21, 2014 by hafong

The thing worse than having the blues is having the summer time blues. You have no excuse for your feelings then. There are all those upbeat songs about being happy like Mungo Jerry’s In the Summertime. Even my downbeat feet beat time to the rhythm.

If you’re in the need of mellowing, Ella can soothe you with her crooning.

I would not advise listening to Janis Joplin. Not only are the fish jumping but so is my heart, from watching a little of her rendition. Better leave that one for a brighter day and a more stable heart. Be still, my heart! Nothing can harm you.

The clouds have returned and I am feeling my heeby jeebies. Nothing to worry about. I am quite familiar with them. We are old friends now. I will breathe and have another cup of tea and tap out a few more words, if I can. The piano is there waiting for me. I have almost conquered My Heart Will Go On. I am ready to tackle Fur Elise. I don’t pick easy pieces, do I?

Learning to count and to keep time resets my heart and quiets my mind. That’s why I like the tap, tapping of my keyboard. It’s much like the steady rhythm of knitting needles. Click, click, click. I’m killing several birds with one stone. I’m not wasting time, tied in knots, huddled in fetal position or getting trouble with other people because I am not ‘feeling up to par’. At the end of the day, I have something to show – a piece of writing, a scarf, learned a piece of music. Not all in the same day, of course, but you know what I mean.

It’s good that time does not stand still. I have to move along and not wallow in old feelings and old memories. Sometimes when I see old photos, I do want to hang onto my youthful self with all my might. But you know how impossible that is. So I give it up, remembering that I did not appreciate it at the time. It is how it is. You are always envying what you had. It is our human nature.

I have come to appreciate my ‘down’ time. I am a little more reflective and aware, not so caught up the usual. It is the same with my sleepless episodes. It is what happens. I value the insights I get with my altered mental state. Things are not clear and more clear at the same time. I go Wow! I tell myself not to stress myself so much the next time when I am blue or sleepless. It is just the rhythm of life. Learn from it if you can but do not beat yourself over it.

THE BLISS OF BEING

Posted on July 20, 2014 by hafong

There’s a price for bliss. I suppose you know that. I am paying today for that moment of sublime bliss in the garden yesterday. My knuckles are swollen and achy, my hips stiff and unwieldy, not wanting to make the corners. What the heck is the problem here? Too much of a good thing? A bliss is well worth the little achy creaky joints.

I close my eyes and see the rich black earth sifting through my fingers. I see the brilliance of my purple petunias in the morning light. I am infused with their colour and energy. The pain leaves me as I slowly move through my qigong routine. I have neglected my physical body these last while. It’s reminding me to take care.

It’s good to come back to these familiar movements. They seem so small and non consequential and yet they do so much for body and mind. Maybe it is the time set aside to do nothing else but this. I am into the moment and movements, feeling relaxed and blessed. My body is important. I am important. It is another bliss -like a taste of rich, creamy ice cream on a hot summer afternoon. Mmmm! I so deserve it.

There is no need to do or accomplish. It is Sunday, a day of rest. Just be.

A REASON AND A SEASON

Posted on July 19, 2014 by hafong

I love weeding after a good rain. Everything looks so green and luscious. I feel I’m working in the garden of our Lord. The soil is soft. You can easily pull the weeds out. There is so much satisfaction in seeing your work coming into its own. How can I not stand back and admire it all? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, do you? I am not gloating. I am just happy with my work.

To feel the earth beneath your feet, the rich soil between your fingers – is ecstasy. It is what they call grounding, I suppose. To me, it is simple bliss. When we feel it, we should pay attention and celebrate. Who knows when such a moment will come again. The memories can carry us forward when times are not so fortunate. We know that this, too, shall pass.

Let us celebrate our lives with the fruits of our garden and our spirits. Let us drink a toast to our friends, family and neighbours, for their love, friendship and the lessons they give us. There is a reason and a season for everything under heaven.

CORNERED

Posted on July 18, 2014 by hafong

It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Photo prompt -copyright-adam-ickes

He advanced towards her, his face shiny with perspiration. Her breath caught in her throat as she backed up against the wall, with nowhere else to go. She clutched the front of her uniform.

“Why were you gossiping about me?” He demanded. She smelled his rancid breath and wrinkled her nose.

” I d-did no such thing!” She stammered.

“My friend overheard a housekeeping staff talking about me to someone at Walmart. Nobody knows about it besides you.”

She felt like a cornered animal, her face shiny and sweaty as his. She scanned her mind quickly, coming up with an answer.

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

BREWING, WAGING, EXPLODING

Posted on July 18, 2014 by hafong

I hate to contradict the FlyLady’s motto, “You are not behind”, but I am a day behind in writing my posts. To make up, I’m going to start from where I am.

I did a bit of kicking ass yesterday even though the day was grey. The sky was cloudless, covered by smoke from forest fires up north. The air was filled with its acrid smell. Our world was covered with an eery gloom. It felt just like the moment before the shoe drops.

But Sheba and I braved it in the early morning, walking/jogging down back alleys to the park. We sniffed the grass, smelled the coffee, and admired the many glooming blue delphiniums and pink hollyhocks, towering above back fences. We saw some grape vines trailing along and on top of fences, clusters of little green grapes showing through the leaves. It was a magnificent sight, nature’s colours glowing through the grey. It gave us heart.

So though the day was grey, I saw my inner world filled with the colours of the rainbow – much like the colours of Daphne’s bouquet from her garden. Even Monet could not out do Nature’s artistry.

Its beauty is there for all of us to share and enjoy. It’s not something you can covet, own and hoard in your own private museum like a painting. It’s there for the moment. Then it is gone to be reborn in another time and place.

The skies did not lift. I did some slow weeding and watering of my flower pots. One thing led to another. Somehow I cleaned up some beds and transplanted perennials. I finished reading about Stephanie Plum and Lulu’s adventure in Fearless Fourteen. Did you know that Stephanie had dreams of being Wonder Woman when she was a girl? How awesome!

The first raindrops came at supper time. It pittered pattered on the deck roof. A breeze came up, stirring the purple petunias on the deck railing. It was a pretty sight. Distant thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. It was a dramatic and romantic backdrop to our evening meal.

The heavens gathered more force through the evening and night. The wind grew and the rain poured. Thunder and lightning continued to play and grumble across the sky. Was it God reminding us to mind how we walk on this earth? Was He sending the artilleries because we are such fools and don’t listen well?

He has my attention. Now I know why I was sleepless. I was feeling his tension – his wrath as he brewed over his children. He has exploded, the storm over – still gifting us his tears to wet the dry earth. I feel relief.

DON’T KICK MY ASS

Posted on July 16, 2014 by hafong

image from Amazon.ca

Today was a no kick-ass day. The only ass kicking was done was by Stephanie Plum and her side kick, Lulu, two characters from Janet Evanovich’s detective series. I spent some hours reading Fearless Fourteen.

Her books are a good read when you are low and need a picker upper. It’s hard to stay down with all the action and humour. How can you not smirk and laugh out loud at this:

“Lulu is a former ‘ho turned bonds office file clerk and wheelman. She’s a plus-size black woman who likes to squash herself into too small clothes featuring animal print and spandex. Lulu’s cup runneth over from head to toe.”

See what I mean? It works for me almost every time, even today.

Today was after a night of sleeplessness. I got a couple of hours but I wouldn’t call it sleep. It was filled with fitful dreams. Not restful at all. I haven’t had one of these for a long time but I am familiar with them. It used to be the norm in my 34 plus years of shift work.

I had hoped on doing a major decluttering but like all plans it was dashed. I felt hung over, stretched out, spent. There was no karate chopping today. My best today was learning from Stephanie and Lulu as they stormed and sped through the pages, getting their man/woman. I didn’t waste time trying to be a heroine. Instead, I gathered energy by living through them. Did I somehow, unconsciously planned this – to have some guilt-free idle time?

I must be innocent. I feel wretched but not guilty. Even Sheba is feeling the lazy today. She’s dragging after me with just a few dispirited barks through the day. I wonder if it was the moon last night, lighting up too many dark corners, keeping me awake. Let me sleep tonight, Mr. Moon.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Author Archives: hafong