I found these black birds sitting atop branches of red berries against the blue sky as I was leaving the Fremont canal after a panning practice. Not sure if this was a crow or a raven. Many Asian cultures deem black birds signs of misfortune. But my mother named me black girl as my nickname. I think she wanted me to be non-arrogant because she already gave me “hao” which is a silvery white color as bright and pure as the moon. Anyways, I don’t think these black birds were ugly. Perhaps their black coats make them mysterious which intrigue me even more.
I used to run along the Fremont canal in Seattle every Sunday. I’d stop and watch the ducks in the water for a while. If you watch them for long enough, you’d start to distinguish the ducks by the way they look, weight, feather, length of their necks, how they swim, social status in a pack, pairings, etc. Sometimes I’d fancy flings and love affairs between them. They looked so happy, content, and free. The question I always pondered about when I watched these ducks was, what do they know about happiness?
Perhaps the first thing that the ducks would tell me if they could talk human was, “Stop thinking so much.” As someone that is noticeably plagued by thoughts more often than necessary, I find myself discontent with how ordinary life is. There is happiness in repetitive labor over whether it be a garden or a computer program. There is supreme joy in simplicity. Perhaps I’m discontent with the lack of inspiration and the lack of creativity. My lack of motivation to share my simplicity with anyone is because it may not be appreciated. I obviously have made a mistake: who should I care to appreciate this simplistic life but me?!
My new year resolution was to simplify my life. The premise was that I’d have higher success rate with fewer targets to aim at. I wanted to change my bad habit of making too many plans and being overly ambitious in the past. So I thought making reasonable goals and expectations was a good lesson to learn.
Maybe I was wrong trying to change myself. Maybe I am supposed to have lots of goals and aspirations and hopefully I’d hit at least a couple of those through life. Maybe I’m supposed to be overly ambitious so I’d be inspired to reach beyond my limits. I miss the days when I was inspired by new problems, creativity, my friends, the nature, … just like the sun beaming on my face while I ran through the woods today.