Life Update: Welcome to Tan Dinh, My New Neighborhood!

It's that time again, folks - I've moved! And I have to talk about it! And lots of other things! Because I can never shut up!

I have a great new place with a big ol' room for my kitties and a lot of exciting street life, restaurants, and cafes for us big two-legged bipeds. And hence... the itchy typing fingers have got ahold of me. I'm all out of video games, I can't stand to read the Stephen King book about a magical pandemic (!!) that's been hanging out on my nightstand since February, and I'm sitting on a thousand or two pictures that need sharing.

Before you ask, you might notice that not only have I abandoned Facebook posting, I've also now left Instagram (itself Facebook-owned). Sadly, social media is not great for my mental health, and pursuing those little dopamine hits easily spirals out of control for me, personally. 

My new neighborhood is Tan Dinh, a smallish area surrounding the eponymous market and home to a lively and engaging space.

Click through for all the details!

He's Come Undone (33rd-Year Edition)

I can't articulate WHY... but this speaks to me.

Real talk.

For a while in 2016, it indeed looked like I'd come undone. A better metaphor is that it was like being unmoored and lost at sea.

Unmooring a vessel means to lift up the anchor and release ties to the dock, releasing it to the weather, the sea, and the skill of the crew. It's always the start of any journey, and no ship leaves dock without a destination. I unmoored myself from Chicago when I left to travel abroad. The thing about journeys is that, when you have a stated end goal, your journey will end in either success or failure.

In other words, becoming unmoored is the first step to achieving your dreams. However, being unmoored is also the first step in getting truly lost.

This year, I ran into some headwinds at sea.

I had a series of jobs that I didn't like. I felt like my real talents were going to waste, but wasn't always able to articulate those talents in a way that made sense, to myself or employers. I attempted to start a few businesses, and was marginally successful in one of them. I got a job I loved, and then got fired from when I demanded a contract (oof, disheartening - she operated in America, FYI). I followed a lot of irrational hope, in hindsight.

In the meantime, all my internal plans were in disarray.

5 Things I've Learned From Writing This Blog

Keepin it real, since 1982.

As I approach the second anniversary of this blog, I'm ready to take it to the next level... but first I'd like to stop and recognize just how much I've actually learned from this experience. It's been a bona fide journey of personal discovery!

It's a bit surprising that I'm still writing, after all. How many projects in my life have I been as committed to, over such a period of time? Still, I'm not complaining, because this is slightly more interesting for those around me (from a social media perspective) than journaling to myself where no one will ever see it.

I enjoy the composition of pieces and the flow of pictures and text, and the flow of ideas and concepts and observations from post to post. I'm building something, but I can only place a single brick at a time. Maybe it will grow up to be a book, or a professional blog, or maybe it will be a delightful hobby forever - but whatever it is, I've learned an awful lot from doing this.

Here are my top five lessons!

1. Patience Pays Off

Patience with myself, patience with Vietnam, and patience with new experiences and cultures in general. I'm not a very patient person. In fact, despite my introverted ways, I'm not very good at moving my internal setting to 'chill' - I've got a lot of pointless, havoc-wreaking anxiety that makes me very impatient with myself, and by extension, sometimes those around me (although I try to be cool).

So remember, Ben: Deep breaths, and baby steps to the bathroom. Baby steps to the kitchen. Chill.

Remember to Water Your Dreams!

Greener days, from early 2014. Pre-ShadeUmbrella, Pre-theGardenHasTakenOverTheTerrace era. HI AITO!!

I keep learning a fundamentally valuable lesson here in Vietnam, over and over:

If you don't pay attention to something, it runs the risk of dying.

I've seen it illustrated vividly, time and again, as I cycle from over-care to under-care in the upkeep of our rooftop terrace garden. I'm actually a little embarrassed that I have to be reminded of this lesson so frequently! But every so often life seems to get in the way, and focus gets shifted. The result is that plants will wither and fade, and sometimes die.

Plants and nature are a principle joy in my life - I love getting my hands dirty. For as long as I've had my own place, I've had plants. And, like many plant owners, I've killed a ton of flora in my time. Through a lack of observation, ineptitude, and downright neglect, I've crushed many organisms whose very existence is a tonic for my mind... and yet, reflexively, I still revive the ones I can, toss the ones I've killed, and start fresh.

Vietnam is a casual gardener's dream. It's actually very easy to grow things here with a minimum of effort - all that is truly needed is a pot and some soil... and water, every day. Maybe not much water (most love the excess, though, being tropical two-season plants), but the trick is that it has to be a habit.

The very act of attention becomes nourishing.

The same is true with the ambitions and dreams we hold closest to our chests.

Street Food IV: The Voyage Home, and What I Didn't Find There

Pork Sticky Rice (Xoi Man). Mandatory? No, not really. But pretty good.

Wow, it's been quite a while since I posted about my street food adventures, huh? Let's rectify that!

In between/during my Autumn posts, I got to visit my homes in North America, and I really appreciated for the first time what kind of environments I was bouncing between. The rapid changes threw their differences into sharp relief. It highlighted the good in each and reminded me that even the negatives sometimes serve a purpose.

One thing that really made me blink, however, was Chicago's lack of street-level activity. I'd never really noticed it before, but the streets are pretty dead here in America. Relatively speaking, of course. Now, I'm not generally a guy for crowds, but I really enjoy the vital atmosphere typical of virtually any Vietnamese street, and there's a LOT to be said for convenience, price, and quality.

Ok. True story: the weeks I was in the midwest were unseasonably cold (and then unseasonably warm... thanks Denver!) and Chicago's true character is naturally more visible in the warmer months of April-September, so there's that. Even then, however, Chicago doesn't have much of a street food scene to speak of.

To me, this has some clear benefits and losses.