Musings

I'm reading Amy Tan's nonfiction book, "The Opposite of Fate: A Book of Musings" right now. I'm not even halfway through the first chapter, and already I'm laughing out loud. This book is not a comedy -- it's a collection of writings about her life and inspirations. She just captures the essence of the Chinese mama so well that I can't help but laugh in appreciation.

Through this book, Amy Tan has provided me with my new favorite quote. It's a common Chinese saying that her mother used to tell her when she was whining: "Fang pi bu-cho, cho pi bu-fang". The approximate translation is "There's more power in silence". I like this quote for two reasons:

• It is very similar to one of my favorite quotes of all time, attributed to Abraham Lincoln. I learned it from my dad: "Tis better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt."


• It makes a universally wise statement in a very Chinese way. Those of you who understand Mandarin can understand see why this quote makes me laugh.

As I'm writing this, I'm having trouble figuring out how best to phrase my thoughts. I feel uncomfortable saying that I appreciate the essence of the Chinese mama, for I am of Taiwanese descent. However, it seems to me that it would be too broad to describe it as an "Asian thing". Perhaps Vietnamese and Korean and Japanese mothers are similar -- I simply don't know because I wasn't raised by one. What I do know is that when I read books about Chinese thought and culture, I see my own mother and her thoughts and culture reflected. So even though China and Taiwan are vastly different politically, it is difficult for me to negotiate the lines of separation culturally. And even as I struggle with this, I know that a lot of people out there will have no idea what I'm talking about.

Instead of thinking too deeply on this, I will leave you with a couple pictures. The first is of Cowboy, chewing a tennis ball on Tilly's porch. The second was taken during our Mason Lake hike this past weekend. I wanted to show you just how steep the avalanche chute was -- you can see the angle of the slope behind me. This was when Margaret and I decided it was time to turn around. We'd made it about 1/3 of the way across the chute and realized that one false step would send us on an uncontrollable slide down the mountain. (As always, click on an image if you'd like to see a larger version.)