meditating on chinese mind, american mind, calling mother. 38 m + 6 m

it's been a while since the residuals of guilt, suspicion, distrust, regrets appear in the mind. and here i am, while reveling in the nourishing sound of aum sweetly and kindly reverberating in the steady and easy breath that is irrigating everywhere in the strong and upright meditation posture, i watch these old habitual tendencies misting my consciousness.
i know where the trigger comes from. i'm gearing up to return my mother's call. on its own, by itself, it will be what it will be, a phone call. and yet, as a teeny weeny part of the five thousand year history of an ancient civilization, nothing is as simple and straightforward as it seems.

with americans, you see what you get. with chinese, what you get is not what you see.

a friend's child, adopted from china, is entering adolescence. i say, american adolescence or chinese adolescence? she says, i don't know, so far she is not saying you know nothing. well, a chinese adolescence thinks the parents know nothing but he/she doesn't say it to their face whereas the american counterpart has no problem doing so.

my editor says, i learn the difference between chinese and american from my acupuncturist. i say, what is that? she says, americans ask why but chinese don't.

aaah, i'm writing in english from a chinese mind that is imbued with american influence. mother is irrevocably cemented in a chinese mind. but then, my insightful baby cousin reports, number one aunt (mother is four feet seven but she is the first born) is now a devout catholic, goes to church every week.

it sounds great but the chinese were there a couple of thousand years before. so...there you go. but then again, i would not underestimate the power of even one drop of divine love in a human mind.

coming out of meditation i already know i will be a-little-better listener in the upcoming phone call.