亲爱的派派，
今天，碰到了一位非常热血，非常不想被社会约束的年轻人，一位觉得在社会里当普通的那位没什么不好。他有颗炽热的心，非常有主见，当然，父母也肯花钱让他到处游荡。
他写了这么一段：
人生不该是一次前往坟墓的旅程
目的不应该是为了
安全抵达一具保存完好的漂亮尸体
而应该是在一片烟雾中侧身滑行
彻底耗尽、完全筋疲力尽
大声宣布wow! what a ride!
这让我想，我会希望你是这样子吗？这样的我行我素，即便毕业两年了还追逐着也许遥远的梦。是否迟早大家都得被社会捆绑着，约束着，毕竟活在现实生活中。或,是否我这样看他的眼光，就已经是他感受的社会约束呢？
我会肯花钱让你这样吗？实说，不太肯。
但，如果问我，我是否宁愿你是很有主见，当一位因不服从而突出的人，还是宁愿你默默的被社会洗脑，失去自我？这两个极端之间，我还是希望，只要三观正确，你是自信，我行我素的模样。我希望你是活的灿烂辉煌的。只希望你足够坚强，因为那选择是累的，也希望我们有能力和意愿帮你坚持。
因为，身为父母，即便不支持你的决定，也得尽量支持你。我们是在你这一旁的。永远都是。
爱你, 爸爸
Dear PiePie,
I came across this word – autotelic – recently. It is an adjective that describes an activity that has an end or purpose in itself.
I thought that’s an important quality in the dreams that you pursue. Is it autotelic? In the pursuit of that dream, is the pursuit itself also an end and purpose? It’s a lot easier to sustain the pursuit of the dream if the milestones and checkpoints along the way, the pursuit, is meaningful to you.
That the trying and the having tried, regardless of the outcome, are worthwhile, is something I feel many forget about. It’s apparent in hindsight and most appreciate the path then, but by gosh it is tough to be grateful about the grind while you’re in the midst of it.
So if you’re feeling tired about the grind towards a goal – and truthfully, most goals have a price to pay – perhaps reframing how you think about the path you are taking towards that goal will sustain you more.
To quote Robert Pirsig, “It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top.” I’m rooting for you on your journey.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
You turn 4 today, and that means it has been 3 years to the day since I thought about writing you a series of letters for when you grow up. 3 years – it seems short in the grand scheme of things, but looking back, so much has changed in that time.
When I wrote that first letter, it was whilst we were trapped at home in the midst of a global pandemic. The trajectory of that pandemic was uncertain and thousands were dying by the day. We didn’t know how long we would need to stay stuck at home for. That first birthday, we ordered in some food, put up some decorations, and had a simple celebration at home.
Fast forward to your 4th birthday, we went to a large play gym with your cousins and played hard amidst a crowd of kids. It was business as usual in the world, as the pandemic fades behind the rear-view mirror and we worry about crowds in restaurants and at the airport. Life ebbs and flows, and meanders unpredictably, and soon, we have forgotten more than we can remember.
When I wrote that first letter, I had wanted to write weekly. That seems like a pretty foolish goal now. I’m lucky to keep a monthly schedule at the moment and goodness knows I’ll falter.
You’re now comfortable with school, having made some friends, and you’re better able to communicate what you want to express. You’re quick to whine, but also incredibly quick-witted. Some of your comebacks to our nagging are logical leaps to behold, and I continue to be amazed at how you’ve grown. You have blossomed beautifully.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
By the time you grow up, artificial intelligence will likely be tightly intertwined within our everyday lives. I have no idea how or when artificial general intelligence (AGI) will be upon us, but I suspect that day is not far off.
I am optimistic that humans will find a way to harness the powers of AGI for good, and yet, it is inevitable that there will be significant shifts in the way of life. And that will be uncomfortable to many. I found that it is not the absolute harshness of the conditions that gets at us, but the changing of conditions, which catches us unprepared, that creates turmoil.
But with artificial intelligence bursting into mainstream consciousness, and their ability to do a lot of the ‘knowledge work’ that we had previously associate as the unique domain of humans, it raised the question of what makes us, us. Artificial intelligence should, by the time you read this, be able to demonstrate creativity and be able to create music, poem, visual arts, movie scripts etc. What, then, separates the outputs of AI from the creations of flesh-bound artisans?
I expect the following to age badly. But it seems to me that what separates us from AI constructs is the evocation of shared experiences, the weaving of our memories into our actions and viewpoints. We live in analog, even if part of that analog world is gradually replaced with digital.
By analog, I mean that our senses capture a continuously variable physical quantity, rather than the bits and bytes of digital. Colors exist on a spectrum, as do volume and pitch and smell and touch pressure. The minute changes along the spectrum, even if almost imperceptible, are what evokes feelings.
It’s the live singing performance, with less than perfect harmonisations caused by genuine emotions, that causes goosebumps to rise. It is a sepia-tinted photograph of a playground you used to play at as a child, that is no longer around, which aroused nostalgia. It could be how Mommy tousled your hair, how I carried you around, or how Yaya fed you, that makes you, you.
Our routines give us comfort, and as they change, old routines become memories laced with deep feelings. These are what we evoke later on as we blaze through life, in the conversations we have, in the things we do, in the hearts we touch.
In that sense, I suppose AI is the collective aggregate of human writings and visuals and videos that we have digitised. As a whole, it might be us. But it is neither you nor I as a singular, although it would be myopic to think that AI will not eventually be personalised. Still, with AI being trained on things from the web, and ever more AI-generated content being dumped online, it seems apparent that unless something reins it in, these models will become increasingly divorced from the core human experience. The things that make us, us.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
I find that, earlier on in our lives, there is a totality of purpose that governs what we choose to pursue . At the age when we form our views about the world, when we see the beauty and ills of the world, there grow concepts in our mind about what we think the world should look like or behave. And we want to manifest that vision, obstacles be damned. That destination, composed of our ideals, determines our path of travel, even if the journey there might be filled with potholes and traps.
This drive is a good thing. Being bold and fearless are the hallmarks of youth, and while I think that some of those actions are the result of ignorance as opposed to bravery, the world needs idealism. Perhaps the world will blunt this sharp edge of yours, as it did to most. But perhaps it will not, and the sharp edge manages to cut a new path that others may eventually follow. Who knows?
Regardless, I genuinely believe that pursuing dreams will enrich and liven up your life. Treasure this fire while it burns, for as you grow, the challenge becomes how to keep this flame going. So I want to say to you, perhaps against the opinion of my older self: Go for it, fight those battles while you are young and hungry.
As time goes, and as one headbutt into reality and the restrictions that it brings, it seems we begin to treasure the journey more than the destination. We found that we are not quite in control of the destination, just the steps which we are taking now, and our path of travel becomes less shaped by ideals, but by the type of life we want to be living. And as we begin to prioritize living, we are willing to allow for more open-ended outcomes in where the destination is, even if there is still a general direction we are consciously headed towards. We are no longer resolutely trying to go in a straight line towards a landmark on the horizon. Instead, we are open to meander base on what we see in front of us. We may eventually still reach the goal, but we find that it is simply a transitory place-marker and the road winds beyond that. In short, things change, and you’ll change. Don’t let your youth be wasted when you are young.
An endnote. I struggled in starting this, since I expect you’d still be in college when reading this, at a ‘goldilocks’ age where you have just about enough skills and knowledge to realistically take on a big problem, but without the scars and wounds to deter you from trying despite the likely short odds. How then, could I tell you to appreciate the ignorance of youth without quite breaking that bubble of ignorance?
And then I realise that perhaps I should not be worried. When do the young ones listen to parents when they advise caution anyway? If anything, it will only spur them on to prove us wrong. Perfect.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
I’m somewhat surprised that I wrote something close to the end of last year and it wasn’t an annual review. I suppose that the natural cadence of the world that I pointed out in the 2021 year in review was not quite as prevalent as I might have imagined.
So, what happened in 2022?
Well, with Covid abating and the world reopening, you manage to visit Cagayan for the first time on an extended trip. You got to spend some time in unfamiliar surroundings, with your grandma and grandpa from Mommy’s side. It was good, that you manage to see the world outside of the tiny island you’re growing up in, to soak in the seas of Palawan (although you hated the sand in your water shoes, or the salt stinging your eyes), to the noise and bustle of Manila and Cagayan. You still keep telling me that you haven’t seen the mountains though, whenever I try to teach you the word 山. We’ll need to stop bringing you to beach destinations I guess.
You went more regularly to school as well, although still only half-day and you were sick for vast periods from one ailment to another. You’re also apparently so shy in school, a far cry from the unstoppable one-person talking machine you are at home. Your teacher said, in the parent-teacher call near the end of the year, that you only just started talking to the other students in the class after months, and that you still get scared when the teachers scold the boisterous boys who are being rowdy. While you still cry and whine on the way to school, you are always happy on the way back. And I guess that’s all that we can hope for – I’d never imagine that fun was a criteria of school.
I do sometimes wonder, if we are so focused in making sure that you are happy that we forget to also steel you up for the real world. That we are rearing a princess who gets what she wants with whining. Everyone of us pursues our form of happiness, but we also only grow through discomfort and effort, which we tend to look back on and be quite appreciative about. So there exist a weird tension, where we want to be happy now, but that current happiness tends to fade away and what will make us happy later is to experience some level of discomfort and to overcome some sort of obstacle in the present moment. The obstacle is the way, as a book said.
I am writing this in a darkened cabin, on a long plane ride. As seems typical of me, I appear to be most reflective and melancholic during such journeys. Travel, it seems, mellows one. It is about hellos, to places and people old and new. But those hellos are tinged with the visceral knowledge that a goodbye will soon follow. Perhaps that is life in a microcosm. Or perhaps life is just one extended travel.
This year in review has taken an odd turn. But the mind tends to wander when given unrestricted space, and mine is wandering all over this darkened cabin. It is too late to be awake, but too early to sleep. And I shall end it here. Till next time.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
Merry Christmas. We got you loads and loads of presents, including an excavator that you can ride around and operate a shovel with while wearing a hard yellow hat. So far, you’re loving it. You’re also slowly growing into a more and more of an obstinate and whiny kid. Grandpa says having a streak of naughtiness and rebellion is good. But he doesn’t have to handle you every day. Still I’m hopeful that you’ll turn out alright – we just need to make sure we don’t spoil you too much and acquiesce to all your demands. You’re soooo good at negotiating for or sweettalking your way into things. That’s another topic for another day though.
I recently read an excerpt from William Shatner’s book, “Boldly Go: Reflections on a Life of Awe and Wonder”, which details his thoughts after heading into space in a Blue Origin spacecraft. For context, William spent a lifetime playing the captain of a spaceship on Star Trek, which is a tv/movie franchise I doubt you’ve heard of, but it was a cult hit. Despite having always been enthralled by the promise of what’s “out there”, he had an about-turn in perspective whilst in space. He says it much better than I can:
I had thought that going into space would be the ultimate catharsis of that connection I had been looking for between all living things—that being up there would be the next beautiful step to understanding the harmony of the universe… I discovered that the beauty isn’t out there, it’s down here, with all of us. Leaving that behind made my connection to our tiny planet even more profound.
It was among the strongest feelings of grief I have ever encountered. The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness. Every day, we are confronted with the knowledge of further destruction of Earth at our hands: the extinction of animal species, of flora and fauna . . . things that took five billion years to evolve, and suddenly we will never see them again because of the interference of mankind. It filled me with dread. My trip to space was supposed to be a celebration; instead, it felt like a funeral.
I learned later that I was not alone in this feeling. It is called the “Overview Effect” and is not uncommon among astronauts… Essentially, when someone travels to space and views Earth from orbit, a sense of the planet’s fragility takes hold in an ineffable, instinctive manner.
It can change the way we look at the planet but also other things like countries, ethnicities, religions; it can prompt an instant reevaluation of our shared harmony and a shift in focus to all the wonderful things we have in common instead of what makes us different. It reinforced tenfold my own view on the power of our beautiful, mysterious collective human entanglement, and eventually, it returned a feeling of hope to my heart. In this insignificance we share, we have one gift that other species perhaps do not: we are aware—not only of our insignificance, but the grandeur around us that makes us insignificant. That allows us perhaps a chance to rededicate ourselves to our planet, to each other, to life and love all around us. If we seize that chance.
William Shatner
I am not trying to convert you into an eco-warrior, or a perennial do-gooder active in social causes, although if that is what you are passionate about, more power to you. Goodness knows I’m far from being a good example of that. But hopefully this serves as a reminder of the power of perspective. That not everything emanates from you or revolves around you. That we are each but one small, insignificant cog of a broader, yet-still-insignificant little blue dot in a vast and black emptiness. That whilst we most frequently argue with those closest to us, and most often complain about the society and institutions we are in, these are the same people and institutions we would most be willing to fight for if someone “on the outside” puts them down. We simply forget about that until we had a chance to take a step out and look back at those ties that bind us.
There is a worldview called Spaceship Earth, which sees all of us on Earth as one crew working together for a common, greater good. I hope one day that this worldview makes sense to you. Having quoted so much for this letter, let me end on one more.
If, before we reach our final destination, our life is a long beautiful voyage, let’s try to make this trip quietly and cheerfully, enjoying the wonderful scenery, without annoying the other passengers too much!
Hergé
Love, Dad
亲爱的派派,
感觉应该用中文写几封信给你，尤其因为在家里我是负责教你中文的。希望我没教的太差，你还能读懂我下面写的。我其实觉得中文有一种独特的美感所在，让写出来的感想得以提升。
今天是妈妈的生日，你应该会很喜欢巧克力蛋糕。你，和我们一样，每一天每一秒都不断的成长。只是我们看的世界比较多，已经没那么多事会让我们惊讶，感叹，欢呼了。我们已粘上这世俗的尘埃。这没有好与坏，是每一个人都必过的旅程。
但，我有时候会纠结，该多少的让你接触这世界的丑陋呢？
是否无拘束的让你探索这世界，鼓励你在收获外面的丰富时，也同时让你跌倒和受伤。还是该尽量的保护你，让你一尘不染，坚守你对世界的童真与期盼。一方面不想要你成长得太快，好让你享受无知的快乐。另一方面怕没有足够的把你准备好，使得你无法承受这世界将带来的挫折与打击。
就跟生活大多数的问题一样，答案往往不是黑白的，不是二选一。这里也一样。感觉这问题的标准答案是，依你的成长过程，适当的让你在我们温柔的掌心里学习飞。但什么是适当的时候，什么是合适的挫折呢？这是个无答题。
说了那么多，好像什么也没有说。最终，你是我们第一个孩子。我们， 同你，也在学习，也不断地在做调整，也是肯定会犯错。不管后来怎么样，我们一定会尽力而为，希望你能多多体谅与包涵。
爱你, 爸爸
Dear PiePie,
The title for this piece came from Thi Bui’s book of the same title. It’s an illustrated memoir, so an easy and quick read – I recommend it.
The book talks about the author’s family’s journey from Vietnam to America and how the unfolding macro events in Vietnam shaped her parents and ultimately herself, leaving psychological imprints that remain long after the tumultuous times have ended.
The one thing that struck me as I read it was how the author’s parents, first shown as hunkered-down refugee-immigrants who raised their children in America on minimum wage, had such similar dreams and aspirations to my university peers and myself, despite being in a much different time and place (early 1960s Vietnam), and in much more trying circumstances.
In high school, the author’s mother “can’t picture” ever marrying, just wanting to “study all her life, become a doctor if she can, and help people”. And while that dream dimmed after high school, the mom continued longing to “study abroad; do something meaningful”, as the Vietnamese society at that time was “too confining and limiting”. The author’s father, at 17, thought his “reality was uninteresting, so became a dreamer”, imagining how his life would be if he was James Dean in a movie, and dressed like a “star” with undone buttons, long hair, and tight pants. He read Sartre and de Beauvoir and listened to Presley.
Perhaps it is the strata of society that the author’s parents occupied, since they were comparatively well-off and well-educated, but this was how many of my peers in high school and college were as well. Dreams of studying abroad, of breaking free from the existing confines of life, of venturing beyond to search for a meaning to life. I had assumed these were cliches of millennials, but it might have been more universal than I imagined.
I thus suppose that you would be feeling this way as well when you are reading this, with “the world’s mine oyster” mentality. And if you should be bristling with ideals and optimism, with dreams of what can be, with hopes of making a dent in this universe, I shall be content. Part of this contentment stems from my belief that those ideals and optimism tend to be built on not having to worry about necessities and survival (and I do hope you don’t have to). But it also means that I have been sufficiently encouraging to not have quashed those dreams.
So if you are indeed dreaming big, I simply have one more quote to bring up. Perhaps a harsh one, but one that many older people think – that “youth is wasted on the young”.
It will seem that the years stretch endlessly before you, that there will always be time to get to something. That’s not true. The years accelerate the older you are – Christmas seems to come around more quickly and catch-ups with friends become more and more infrequent. You are at the age where you will have the most energy you will ever have, with a keen enough understanding of how the world works, but without the cynicism and jadedness that comes from experiencing it too fully. Treasure this unique set of attributes. It won’t be forever. Carpe Diem.
Mom and I will support you, the best we could do.
Love, Dad
Dear PiePie,
I was careless during a work trip today – I left my passport in the hotel safe when checking out and only realised when I reached the airport later in the day. It wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, since I rebooked myself on a later flight and the hotel was nice enough to courier my passport to the airport, but I can feel myself shaking with adrenaline and cursing myself at the mistake made. It’s the palpitation of fear that happens when you discover that you made a mistake, whether in school or at work or elsewhere.
I obviously still make mistakes and get shaken by them, but stepping back and reflecting, here are some reminders to myself that I thought might be useful to jot down.
Most mistakes aren’t quite as large as they feel. It takes a while to realise this, and even if your mind knows that it is a rectifiable error, it is still a sucky feeling to make a mistake. But this feeling is what will hopefully keep you from making the same mistakes in the future. So it is preferable to feel terrible when you make a mistake than not, since it means you still care, but take a few deep breaths and try to move yourself pass it.
Look ahead – it is more important to solve the problem and move forward than to dwell on the error. What’s done is done. How you deal with it will define you. Sometimes the mistake isn’t even made by you, but by someone you are partnering with that affects you. Again, move past it quickly to solve the problem at hand than to try and immediately assign blame. Move along. Reflection of mistakes can come later.
But always reflect. Eventually, however, you will need to think about why the mistake was made, and how you can prevent yourself from making the same mistake in the future. In my case, I should always check the room and safe before leaving, or I can choose not to leave the passport in the safe since it is probably more likely to be forgotten in the safe than to get stolen from a hidden place in the luggage. In general, it’s better to learn from others’ mistakes, but at the very least, you should always be learning from your own errors, figuring out processes or procedures you can change as a rule of thumb to avoid the same mistakes.
The upside of my mistake, and thus having to take a later flight, is that I now have the time and impetus to write this note. Things can turn out for good!
Love, Dad