西红柿炒鸡蛋🍅🥚
I have told this story to some before, but it’s important to retell.
I remember being embarrassed about my school lunches. “What is that smell?!” The kids would always ask each other, and I would stealthily close the lid of my lunchbox. Weird Chinese food. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t have sandwiches like all the other kids. I got mad at my parents for repeatedly telling me to heat up my lunch because it’s not good for you to eat it cold. But that makes the smell even stronger! I would go sit out in the hallway on floor by my locker with a half-opened container and chow down my food, closing the lid in between bites.
西红柿炒鸡蛋. My fathers’ 拿手菜. His specialty. Eggy, tomatoey, sweet and sour and salty. The leftover rice sometimes soggy, sometimes fluffy, or dry and crispy.
It’s one of my favorite dishes, along with many others. But this one particularly, I was always thrilled when I discovered it was inside my lunchbox. The simplest gift package. Simply profound. It spoke volumes.
Today, inside the Napoule castle on the coast of sunny Côte d’Azur, I am again cooking myself this fried rice. I am again remembering, honouring, expressing gratitude for the countless small and big sacrifices by my father, the acts of love and dedication, whether well-expressed or not, so that I could have the privilege of living this life I have now. Every drive across the city to piano lessons and volleyball practices, every teary-eyed argument, every smelly packed lunch.
西红柿炒鸡蛋. Tomato egg fried rice. Such a simple dish, a seemingly insignificant part of daily life, yet bursting with such intense flavours of warmth, of nostalgia. Such an incredibly powerful reminder of a challenging yet blessed childhood, of home, of all the quiet, silent, stoic, invisible expressions of love.
Of course, this memory is about my gratitude for family. But our beings, our existence and privileges are built on, interconnected with all that came before us and surround us in this moment. The dream and work and legacy of Marie and Henry Clews for building this fairytale castle as a haven for artists, the kindness of generosity of every staff, cook, cleaner, … the glittering diamonds in the Mediterranean water, the sun for continuing to rise.
I am carefully reading through Richard Wagamese’s “One Drum” now, and how touching these teachings are. Values, ceremonies, wisdoms, principles that we should repeat to ourselves again and again. The first Grandfather teaching: humility.
Every moment is a gift. An opportunity to remember our connectedness, our gratitude. And that doesn’t mean we have to constantly try to seize the opportunity. Because there are countless moments, an eternity of moments, to simply be, to humbly receive, to choose the belief that before we think anything, say anything, produce anything, we already are. We are part of one sacred breath, one drum, one human family.
“See yourself as a sacred part of everything.
Open yourself to receive.
Live life itself as a ceremony.
Ceremony allows us to remember.
Ceremony allows us to embrace gifts.
A gift is an empowerment. ”
What Wagamese says on our roles as individual agents of change also resonates with me deeply. What can we as tiny humans possibly do to restore love and kindness and communion to our human family? Well, belief, and humility. Concentrate my energy on the things that are achievable right now within my circle of influence. Change will happen. Chose to believe. Act different now toward people and situations in my stream of life, and change will happen.
Live with that humble energy, the kind that says “I do what I can right now in my own small way”. It can create a ripple effect on the world. I’ve felt it. The smallest ripple first. Do what is doable and do it right now.
Fall in love with this phrase, “all my relations”.
“I’ve been considering the phrase “all my relations” for some time now. It’s hugely important. It’s our saving grace in the end. It points to the truth that we are all related, that we are all connected, that we all belong to each other. The most important word is “all.” Not just those who look like me, sing like me, dance like me, speak like me, pray like me or behave like me. ALL my relations. That means every person, just as it means every rock, mineral, blade of grass, and creature. We live because everything else does. If we were to choose collectively to live that teaching the energy of our change of consciousness would heal each of us—and heal the planet.”
So once again, thank you dearly. Dad. Mom. All my relations,
Tong
