I came across this aspiration quote the other day on a notebook cover, which contained a grammatical error. Although it was not perfectly written; however, I understood the message that it intended to convey.
I read a Facebook self-confession the other day, in which the writer reflected on the impossibility of being a perfectionist-“I’m pretty sure I am my own worst enemy when it comes to my work. The key to success is not being a perfectionist. The key is getting in and getting out.”
None of us will ever become a perfectionist, though most of us willingly spend our entire lifetime, wanting, trying, hoping, aspiring and claiming to be one. Stupidly, we will, inevitably, pass this age-old “tradition” onto the next generation.
Why are we doing this to ourselves?
La juxtaposition du présent et du passé est autour de nous. De temps en temps, nous n’avons l’impression qu’en marchant devant, nous pourrons nous délasser du passé; très souvent, la réalité nous fait convaincre qu’autrement. Essayant d’effacer tout ce qui s’est passé déjà de nos mémoires en prétendant tout était bien n’est pas du tout le principe de notre existence. Nos passés nous font construire. Ses vestiges se sont inculqués sur nous pour toujours.
As I walk the streets of Hong Kong, I constantly feel the need to speed up my pace. Work gets done with upmost efficiency here. All types of dreams seem to begin and come to pass in an instant in this city. One blink of an eye can easily make us lose sight of something that is exotically interesting.
I have been immersed in this fast-paced environment for almost a month now. Although this city is cultural, young, dynamic and fun; however, the vivacious energy that is flowing in the Hong Kong air can make me feel breathlessly exhausted at times.
Lying in bed, while listening to CBC podcasts, I am made to be in tune with my inner feelings. I am made to admit to myself how much I miss Toronto and long to be in Canada. Maybe, I am just way too attached to the peace and quiet that Canada has to offer-the spaciousness and freedom that are hard to come by on the other side of the planet. I still carry the “We The North” mentality, which has deeply instilled in me a sense of pride that is authentically Canadian.
My new life in Hong Kong has just begun. My old life in Canada refuses to come to a complete stop. Life loves to play tricks on us. As much as we like to plan for our future, the ways to get there are always filled with mysteries, confusion, setback and progression. Another week has come to an end for me in Hong Kong. As I am slowing down to contemplate and to reflect on my past, I am also full of anticipation, wanting to find out what the future has in store for me in this whole new world.
So many things to see and so many places to go, I wonder how we can do it all at once. We strive hard to be on par with our colleagues, while doing our best to nurture our specialty; I wonder if personal effort alone is enough to make us a standout among a sea of eager opportunity seekers.
Le français, le canadien, le chinois, qui suis-je? On m’a dit qu’il n’y avait pas de besoin de se mettre dans une boîte catégorisée; après tout, personne n’a qu’une seule dimension. Le fait est que la vie est plus facile à vivre si on pouvait se retrouver dans une place à laquelle on s’appartient.
Night in Hong Kong is fabulous-Endless events to participate in can easily turn a temporary escape into a costly distraction.
Night in Hong Kong is spectacular-Laser animation that lights up the concrete jungle at the heart of Asia’s World City is certainly a sight to behold.
Night in Hong Kong is busy–People from all over the world rub shoulders with each other and pack the narrow street to its fullest.
Night in Hong Kong is lonely-Behind the glitz and glamour runs the river of a million broken dreams.
La nuit s’est tombée. Les gratte-ciels sont éclairés pour casser l’obscurité, qui s’englobe cette ville globale. On a tous ses propre rêves à réaliser. À huis clos et derrière les mots émotionnellement chargés, ce qui se cache, ce n’est que la vulnérabilité qu’on n’a pas encore le courage à l’exposer publiquement.