Rebirth. And a rant about tiger moms.

The old branch twitches,

Bursting with verdant blooms - life

in a spring refuge.

I believe I have heard this said before. If this is not out there, then I suppose I should get "props" for original theory.
A man's life consists of not just one life, but many. After all, who says that one person remains one and the same from the start to the end of his life? (Excuse my sole use of the masculine pronoun. As the analogy will be referring to me, I will use only the masculine pronoun for the sake of simplicity.) Didn't the Buddha discuss this theory about having multiple lives? About how in order to achieve nirvana, he must lay to rest all those other parts of himself.
For instance, he was an ascetic in the beginning, being too strict on himself and his lifestyle for the sake of personal gratification. It made him think he was "better" than anybody else and the pride associated with asceticism did not help him achieve nirvana any better. Thus, he had to put the ascetic to rest, and die and be reborn.
At a different stage of his life, he was a profligate, a hedonist. He would go to parties, have sex with women sent to his palace, and eat and drink to his heart's content. This lifestyle too blocked his way to nirvana, so he had to die as a pleasure-monger and be reborn. His "deaths" only helped pave his way toward his true goal; his experiences aided his search for the middle path and the road to enlightenment at last.

Therefore, I consider an old self to be dying at the moment. I am trying to healthily get over my previous girlfriend, and it is working! Being on FL has also helped. A change of mindset and an influx of experience has brought me to nearly solve some of the confidence issues I used to have. Confidence is good for the mind, and good for the soul. I know I'm reasonably good-looking (no hubris over here - I don't think I'm a super-star) and I know I hold my destiny in my hands, once again. The old me is dying. And a new one will rise up for a new time.

The ivy that wraps

Around the autumn oak tree,

Chokes the hope of spring.

I may or may not have written about my family. I maintain correspondence with several people and sometimes lose track of exactly what I have written where. For this reason, I forget if I mentioned my mother on this blog. I apologize for that. The point that I was about to make about my mother is the fact that I receive an irrational, sickening aversion to doing whatever she advises me to do. Because she played a role like that of the well-acclaimed but utterly misguided "tiger mom," she and I have been at odds about independence and about worldviews so often that I become turned off to any idea she proposes.

For instance, I got into Harvard when I was applying to college, with a bunch of other schools. I must say that I greatly enjoyed all of my visits, except for Harvard's, probably because my mom was such a big advocate for the school that it just became a dull place with lame architecture and utter "tools" walking around everywhere. Maybe that is actually how it is. Whether the view is true or not, I never gave it a fair chance because I subconsciously come to hate anything my mother likes. So, take that, "tiger mom"! You think beating your kids and forcing them to play piano until they urinate in their stockings is a good idea? Think again! Maybe the original "tiger mom" had fantastic children that were incredibly pious to their elders. All I know is that despite being in a great school and probably doing what any Asian parent dreams their kids are doing, my mother and I have a terrible relationship, because she was so brutal in my childhood that I considered her an enemy from age seven to age eighteen. Even now, I consider my interactions with her necessary, and not desired.

Now, why am I ranting? She was in a state that my incredibly biased mind calls "being nosy," and queried about what I am writing. I was forced to tell her it is a blog, and now that she put it through her "approval process," I became disgusted at my writings and nearly put an end to it. However, because I know myself somewhat well and know that my aversion is a temporary state, I've decided to put my rage away by writing and ranting. It has worked. Fortunately, my mother is the only one who excites these feelings of savage anger, as she is at the same time my main protector and my nemesis.

The fact that this Yale "tiger mom" actually advocates this kind of twisted parenting, I absolutely abhor her.
Parents and children, remember to treat your child with love. If you love your child, he or she will grow up to love you back. Being a tiger mom is a risk: unless your children love you unconditionally, there are bound to be some feelings of resentment lurking within, something I now have to deal with.