Before tonight, I didn’t know what the musical Miss Saigon was about. Rather poor for someone who loves musicals.
Having recently enjoyed a concert by Lea Salonga, the original Kim from Miss Saigon, I was curious – and read up on the musical on Wikipedia.
The result? My husband walked into the room to find me in tears.
Having come from a place where conflict and poverty is a reality, and people covet any entrée into peaceful countries like the U.K and the U.S.A – and moreover being a mother myself – the story of Kim and her son Tam hit me in the gut.
Explaining why I was so deeply moved to my husband while within earshot of our children was a challenge, requiring a lot of coding. We generally welcome our kids’ active participation in conversations at home, but of course this wasn’t appropriate – the themes in Miss Saigon are almost without exception adult.
Thankfully, the conversation turned to the need to care for children who are struggling with poverty.
Something our kids could relate to, and enthusiastically talked about. Excellent – I had been wondering recently how to inspire our kids to actively think about this.
We spent several precious minutes talking about what we could do, in our own ways, to help.
My kids were all for giving out food, toys and money. Which in turn led to some thinking about what would happen when those commodities ran out – and maybe we weren’t around, or weren’t able, to send more of the same.
Which in turn led to a conversation about giving that supports sustainability and self-sufficiency.
From Miss Saigon to sustainability.
Sometimes it’s about letting conversation happen.
Wow – I finally dropped back in to check this blog, and found a load of lovely comments! It’s great to know that people have been visiting even though I haven’t been
It has been less than a year since my last blog update, but so much has changed that I feel light-years away from that time. I will – hopefully – write about some of these changes over the coming months.
The changes were radical enough to necessitate a temporary but almost all-encompassing reduction of all the extras which were crowding our lives. It has only been recently that we have been able to come up for air (so to speak).
This has brought into sharp focus some of the attitudes and mindsets that have weighed us (and especially me) down through the years.
One of those is that I am, essentially, an approval addict. “WHAT WOULD PEOPLE THINK?” drives 90% of my decision-making.
To illustrate. This week, we started planning our son’s birthday party. I had been putting off planning it for ages. I love my kids to bits, but feel seriously stressed out organising their birthday parties.
I obsess over:
– who to invite (would they want to be invited? would they feel offended if we did not invite them?),
– where to have it (if it’s at home, I would feel totally embarrassed by the mess, if it’s somewhere else, it has to be not too pretentious so people don’t think I’m stuck up, and it has to be somewhere that will take the number of kids my son wants to invite – he doesn’t want ten kids, and most places demand at least ten kids, which again goes back to the question of who to invite. Worst case, I can do what I did one year, and PAY for ten kids, regardless of how many I invite – which would blow our much-needed cash – besides making me look totally pretentious again)
– what food to provide (not too bad an issue until the last couple of days before the party), and
– what party-favours to organise (they need to be nice enough but not too nice to be pretentious).
My stomach’s churning, my heart’s pumping, and I just want to crawl into bed and wake up after the party is over.
Occasions like these freak me out – and consequently cause stress to the rest of the family – for many weeks ahead of time. This is crazy, as I actually love having people over – except that I feel intimidated by them, and have a deep, almost immovable need to gain their approval. Go figure. Almost like a love-hate relationship.
There are many other reasons why I know that I am an approval addict. That’s for another post.
I am unsure about the precise roots of this in my life. My being a Third Culture Kid may be a contributing factor, though interestingly others in my family who are not TCKs also appear to exhibit the same symptoms of approval addiction. I know that it is bound up in my TCK’edness in that when I move into any new cultural context, I work very hard at gaining the approval of those already in that context – generally by trying to emulate them as much as possible.
This often leaves me wondering who the real me is.
My deep desire is that I get to know God and His view of me to such an extent that my need for the approval of others simply fades into insignificance.
originally written 14th July 2010
I am a musician.
Did you know that?
I didn’t. Well, not always.
I thought I was a counterfeit one. A pretender. A person who could act and sound like a muso, but wasn’t really one.
Strange how the search for self has permeated something as trivial – or as important – as that.
Surely it’s simple.
Dan, meet Dave. Dave plays the guitar. He sings. He gets excited listening to other guitarists, and spends hours copying their riffs.
Dan, would you call Dave a musician?
I think Dan would be losing the plot if he said Dave wasn’t.
Of course, there are hierarchies of musicians – just as in any other field.
There are those who are just starting out. Or are always just starting out.
Then there are those who can only ever play from some kind of written music.
Then there are those who can play from chords, casually classed as ‘improvisers’. I fall into that category. Stick a chord sheet and a singer in front of me, and I’m set.
Then there are those who can wing it. They are the ones who play or sing ‘by ear’. When they play, we wonder why anyone bothered to invent music stands. This is the rarefied stratosphere to which I aspire. While I can sing by ear, I have only occasionally joined those ranks in my playing. Something holds me back – probably the fact that my ear is not reliable. Five times in ten, I will pick the wrong chord.
Then there are The Song Writers.
As you can see from my hierarchy, songwriters are considered it and a bit – by me.
And someone else would have a different pecking order. Perhaps that pop or rock musicians are just not any good. Perhaps not even jazzsters. Only the classical variety get anywhere near the top of the tree.
I digress. But not very far.
I was spun into another morass of self-doubt (yes, I love cliches!) recently by a comment from a highly accomplished muso, passed on second-hand to me, that people who need sheet music to play from aren’t real musicians.
So… back and forth I went. am I a musician?
I don’t think there is anything in my life that has been as much a part of it for the whole of it, as music has. To say the same thing clearly, music is so intertwined into my life, that to separate me and it would be impossible.
I find it interesting that I think of myself as a counterfeit musician – not the real deal. I also suspect most people who know me think of me as a real musician – I play with passion and sensitivity, and I know my music. Why the contradiction?
I have finally splashed out, and got ourselves (or should I say ‘myself’?) a Kindle.
It has taken us some years to get to this point. First, there was the financial side to consider, and then we had to process the whole pseudo-ethical arguments for and against traditional books.
Then there was the other important question: what would the Kindle actually serve? Jane Austen’s work was always going to be available – after all the Kindle isn’t going to thumb its nose at public-domain (i.e free), popular (read ‘extremely popular’) fiction. But finding that the works of Georgette Heyer are mostly all available too, tilted the scales – for me, anyway. Now the deed has been done.
Since placing the order, I’ve been eagerly tracking the progress of my our Kindle to us.
Only two days to get from the U.S.A to Australia. Wonder how long it’ll take from Australia to… Australia.
I wrote the pseudo-poem in blue below during a particularly dark mood. I think the darkness brought to surface questions that go on deep inside me about who I am. In that moment, I decided that I wouldn’t make my children TCKs (how long that decision will last, time only will tell :))
This constant questioning about myself has great positive side effects – I get along with people particularly well, because I am able to put myself aside. I can get along with people that have been labelled ‘difficult’ by others.
But it has serious down-sides – at least, I think they are serious. Because I don’t know if I am being used, or being the ‘user’. At home, I don’t know if I’m doing my fair share of the dishes. Career-wise, I don’t know if I am earning less than others who have similar abilities to me – am I belittling my skills, or making too much of them? Also, in most conflict with other people, I find it very easy to blame myself.
I’ve titled it The Problem That Is Oneself, and wonder if it is a particularly TCK trait or not. Perhaps it isn’t even a TCK trait, but simply something that I am.
Perhaps the problem is that I don’t question myself enough… Perhaps I’m seriously blinkered, and don’t see how much my self intrudes.
There! See? That’s the questioning in action.
I can’t do this to my kids.
I refuse to pass on to them this particular TCK legacy.
Forever looking on from the outside. Judging, evaluating oneself.
The constant wondering if one is okay.
Continually questioning if one is taking too much air-time.
Never knowing if one should simply remove said self. Spare others the annoyance, the problem, or the downright pain of having to put up with whoever one is.
Why should my children have to spend the rest of their lives wondering if they are a problem?
Some things get me thinking. Thinking enough to write a blog post.
Things like criticism.
I’ve heard a lot of advice about criticism.
Like: ‘If you don’t have anything good to say, then don’t say anything at all.’
I’m sure you’ve had your share of similar-sounding advice.
And you know what? I don’t think most people realize when they are being damagingly, soul-crushingly critical.
For instance, I have this friend, Mythical, who seems to love to criticize. It seems that he is never so happy as when he’s relating a hard-done-by story. One where he’s hard done by, of course. Every time I see him, he has a list of complaints as long as my arm. About his wife, his children, his work-place, his doctor, even his shoemaker – and the latter may very well be non-existent. Well, if you ever meet Mythical, you’ll know what I mean. On the rare occasion that he hasn’t got a complaint, he says ‘Well, we all know that this can’t last!‘
Now, I’ve known Mythical for a long time. And I know that there’s one thing that really gets his goat. He gets really upset when people CRITICIZE.
He explodes: ‘I just wish people would stop criticizing! Why can’t we all put a little positive spin on life? What of a little affirmation? The world will be a much better place!’
And it suddenly hit me.
I don’t think Mythical even realizes when he’s being damagingly critical. He is merely fighting the injustices in an unjust world. The lack of love in a loveless era. The insincerity in an insincere community. No, he’s not being critical!
Yes, my friend sees himself as a lone soldier, backed against a wall, fighting the world.
I have two pieces of advice for Mythical. Assuming I got him to read this post completely, up to this point, I could say:
1. Mythical, next time you accuse someone else of being critical, please – um – stop, won’t you? Perhaps you could consider what’s happening in that person’s life that is causing them to be so critical? You may even find that the two of you have a lot in common. You are really two lone soldiers, backs to your respective walls, fighting against an unjust world, a loveless era, an insincere community. You seem to be on opposite sides of the fight merely because you’re backed up against different walls.
And if he’s calmly listened to me to this point – which is doubtful, I could continue:
2. Also, next time you have a hard-done-by story to tell, perhaps you could take a long, hard look at yourself first? There could be things – holes, unresolved issues, you know – in your life that are somehow making you feel like you’re fighting the world. And maybe – just maybe – that’s causing you to attack more than defend. And you are – unknowingly of course – causing pain. But, Mythical, rather than getting all guilted up, perhaps you should be kind to yourself, and gently address whatever it is that’s got you somehow backed up against that wall, fighting.
Yes, I hear what you’re saying. Why am I even hanging round Mythical, letting this stream of negativity pour unstemmed into my life?
Well… it’s a little hard to dump Mythical. You see, Mythical IS ME.
Yep! I’m talkin’ about myself.
And I really hope I hear this advice. And, kind of actually do something about it.
Well, perhaps Mythical is also you. And you over there. And that person sitting on the sidewalk. And the other one over there. And that grumpy man across the road. And…
Because we’re all really in the same hard place. Backed up against those walls, fighting off the rest of the world.
There must be a heck of a lot of walls around.
No, we’re not moving – yet. It’s just another instance of my tendency to obscure words and their meaning in a rather pathetic attempt to be funny.
This blog has now been made smart-phone friendly, thanks to the plugin WPtouch iPhone Theme.
This WordPress plugin formats your site with a mobile theme for the Apple iPhone, iPod touch, Google Android, Palm Pre and other touch-based smartphones.
So go on, open up http://third-culture-kid.com in your favourite 3G- or WiFi-capable touch-based gadget. And let me know how you go – I’ve tested this on my iPhone, and am curious to know how it works on other phones.
Introducing Heidi Sand-Hart and her soon-to-be-released book ‘Home Keeps Moving‘!
I’m going to buy this one the moment it hits the stores!
‘Home Keeps Moving‘ is published by McDougal, and follows Heidi and her missionary family on their many moves through the eyes of a Third Culture Kid (TCK) and the unique phenomena of having four very different home countries to relate to. It tells the true story of being catapulted from continent to continent constantly: leaving friends and starting all over again, her unquenchable search for a home and sense of belonging in this world, her desire for a life-partner with the odds all but against her due to constantly relocating (even into adulthood). You will laugh and cry along with Heidi as she recounts hilarious and heart-breaking tales from her childhood as West blends with East. That is the true beauty of Heidi’s upbringing, it crossed borders and defied logic but she lacked for nothing.
‘Home Keeps Moving’ tackles subjects such as Confused Loyalties, Swimming in Two cultural oceans, Home, Grief, Education, Social Pressures, Religion, Expectation, Re-Entry, Delayed Adolescent Rebellion, and Relationships.
To read Heidi’s blog, visit http://homekeepsmoving.blogspot.com.
Note: All the information above is taken either from Heidi’s blog, or her publisher’s website.