Tag: London

Thank you Note

We don’t thank people enough. That’s a fact.

Bride and groom leave those thank-you notes at the door even pictures taken earlier in the banquet.

Efficiency over gratitude.

Sales people are advised to send Thank-you cards to get referrals.

For job candidates, it’s a must.

But what about situations other than wedding, sales referral request and job search?

Even quick notes on our mobile phones have “thank you”  pretyped.

Some people even say “You’re welcome” to remind us of the art of gratitude.

I guess the age of entitlement has overshadowed our sense of gratitude.

We deal with Third-Party, with institutions instead of individuals.

If we owed someone money, we would be more inclined to say Thank You.

Credit card companies, on the other hand, acted in the way that makes it hard for us to send them a Thank-you Note.

(in Now You See Me, the magicians opened the show in Las Vegas by saying “Tonight, we’re gonna rob a bank”).

In this post-Recession era, we all need to unlearn bitterness, and relearn gratitude.

One of the blogs I subscribe to mentioned “reciprocation”.  Someone has to start the virtuous cycle.

Then reciprocity will follow suit.

I am listening to Vincent by Don McLean. Reciprocity came a bit late for Vincent Van Gogh.

The hope for us is , in our life time, we will be acknowledged sooner rather later. A quote on Linkedin got my attention: “when you light someone’s path, it brightens your feet as well”.

Thank you for reading.

It’s been a journey in self-discovery and bonding with you, my unknown readers.

Like a singer that needs an audience (think of a Vegas lounge with all the “losers” eating breakfast on the house, while trying their best to “appreciate” the free gig on stage),

I am thankful you lent me your “ears” while I was trying to find my voice. Your attention is acknowledged and appreciated. Communication is a two-way street.

I need you more than you have come to realize.  Thank you.

 

daring swim

I was privy to not once or twice, but thrice, work  in non-profit capacity with displaced Vietnamese.

My first time was at IndiantownGap, Pennsylvania as a Child Welfare interpreter.

Later, in Hong Kong as a relief worker. And latest was in 1983, in the Philippines, where Cambodian and Vietnamese awaited their flights to the US.

One story stuck in my mind.

A 9-year-old boy.

No shirt.

Floated in a basket.

Ended up in a makeshift prison-turned-camp in Hong kong .

He could hardly speak Vietnamese , much less British English, spoken where he would finally be resettled.

I gave him some money, earned from my volunteer stipend.

The camp police caught him with dollars in hand, and took him to question.

So I had to bail him out, and wished him a nice life.

I often wonder how he would eventually turn out.

Will he be working in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Or is he back in Cho Lon, Chinese-enclave of Vietnam, as a successful Viet Kieu.

It has been 32 years to date. He must be in his 40. May even have a big family.

Then those boys I helped place in foster homes.

I am sure they do well, raised and schooled in the hills of Pennsylvania.

They are cheering for the Nittany Lions, same way I do.

But how they got here was slightly different from my journey, which had begun on a barge.

They got here unaccompanied, in the case of that boy, sole survivor on the merciless (pirates robbed and raped many of them) China Seas.

Before there were shows like Survivors on American TV, I had already met some real survivors who challenged my assumption about perseverance and persistence.

We only know something ironically in its absence.  Take comfort, love and companionship for instance. Or, if the AC is off this summer, we moan and groan for lack of cool air.

Love , I refuse to comment. And companionship: my friend is now a widow. I am sure she can comment on this better than I do.

The point is that most of us live within the confine of a bell curve. But many of us will have to face adversity and challenge at some point in our life time.

For me, I take lessons from those barge people and boat people. For some reason, they are endowed with much more than I could ever have e.g. adaptability. And they did not stop there: they put the past behind and move on to success.

The young monk once asked his master “why did you carry the woman – supposedly inhibited and inappropriate – across the river? The master replied “I crossed the river already, why are you still lingering about what happened on the other side?”

Unintended consequences of war and displacement depicted by a daring swim in a basket. No thanks. I will take barge over basket. And the song that stuck in my mind during that period was “We’ve Only Just Begun“.

tale of a survivor

A Canadian lady, back from visiting her family in India, was aboard the flight to Detroit on Christmas day.http://www.thecanadianpress.com/english/online/OnlineFullStory.aspx?filename=p122649A&newsitemid=27268234&languageid=1

She recalled vivid details of near-miss explosion, the terror and the bravery of passengers and crews.

We cannot control some events, but we can control our reaction (10/90 rule).

As far as stats , the chance for us to get hit by a car is much higher (1/80) vs (1/800,000 by a terrorist) in our life time.

But, for those of us on business frequent flying list, bump that up a bit.

These past few years, American stay put more, move less. Many just want to stay in their house, without it being foreclosed.

We are dealing with an atmosphere of insecurity more than fear. Insecurity makes us loose sleep, fear helps us prepared.

The perpetrator was known as son of a banker, sent to first-rate school in England (I had some Nigerian graduate school classmates whose intellectual mind I admired).  In contrast, Prince William, born of royalty, decided to pursue and focus on a S & R military career. One intends to destroy and take people with him, the other, saves lives.

Same age group, different sets of orientation.

What I detest are people who expound a certain view, and urge the restless and radical to go out and “just do it”.

N American kids would take that as a “call of the mall” and go out to buy a pair of Nike.

These days I can’t avoid hearing about the “marketing” damage Tiger’s downfall wrought.

This holiday could have been much gloomier but thank God, it’s behind us.

Four young men: the Prince who slept a homeless night in the street of London, a banker’s son who should have traveled with his underwear inside out (like Madonna), Tiger who no longer acts his name, and the Dutch producer enjoys his well-deserving sunshine in Miami after a brief stop in Detroit.

Come on boys! Let’s act like men. Had it still been “hunter and gatherer society”, we would have marched you deep into the trail

and had you haul wild animals back for supper. Life has been hard, digital or analog, even without fanatics.

The Canadian lady said she threw up when finally safe inside the passenger lounge.  Asked if she would fly again, the answer was , perhaps not American. We need some brand reinvigorating here.