Life Update: 2018 in Pics and So Much Text

Saigon at night, with Landmark 81, the newest, tallest building in Vietnam.

Hello folks!

It's been a crazy 2018 over here!

(To be fair, it's been an even crazier year for the rest of the globe - man, am I glad to be outside of America right now. What a dumpster fire my country is right now! As I tell my students, half-jokingly "We're just going through some things right now... we'll get better... I hope...!")

So I guess I'm typing again, and communicating with the rest of the world from Vietnam. Like I said, it's been a year of big changes on the Vietnamese homefront. Let me get down to business with what's happening in my world!

Lots and lots of text today, so please enjoy some photos from the last year as well!

Click through for all the news!

I Bought a Motorbike... and I Didn't Do My Research

@&#$ this fake Honda Wave. Looks fun and zippy. Is actually murdercycle.

A genuine Honda Wave is a great motorbike for a lot of reasons. They're cheap to fill up, cheap to repair, last basically forever (with proper care, of course), and are generally pretty good bikes for zipping around on any kind of trip, near or far.

So it's entirely on me when I say that the Honda knock-off I bought has been pretty much a total *$&%ing disaster. It was my own, personal, eternal teachable moment, every day, forever (it seemed) for 7 months. Truly, the gift that kept on giving! It was only when I moved houses and got rid of that disaster deathbike did my daily nightmare end.

First it was the brakes.

Then it was the gears.

Then the turn signals. Then the front lights. Then all the lights. Then the fuel hose. Then an oil leak. Then the engine. Then the ignition.

I thought I could learn to fix it. Mechanics laughed in my face. True story. I am much more shy around mechanics now. For some reason they are as intimidating as barbers and doctors for me (a lot).

Murderscoot Jr. continued to totally suck in new, ever-more impressive ways. I looked forward to learning some new horrible thing about it every time I got on... it was a major stressor in life for me, tbh.

The symptoms were clear: I had bought myself a lemon!

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.

Three Vital Skills I Learned from Acting Classes, and One I'm Still Working On

I don't always use memes, but when I do, I use five of them.

I've always valued the training I received in theatre school. It was a really rough time for me mentally, but as I've grown older ('matured'?) I am able to look back and be amazed by just how many wide-ranging situations I've navigated by dint of my training.

I am continually surprised at how these various skills (and, my god, what a bizarre, heady, useful range of skills they turned out to be!) have come in handy here in this brave new world of traveling abroad. As I get to know myself better, and fall back in love with who I am, I wanted to take a moment to detail here how they've helped me on my worldwide, and inner, journeys.

I graduated with a degree in Technical Theatre. Practically speaking, I was a carpenter, designer, stage manager, stitcher, props designer, and periodically unemployed person before deciding that my career in theatre was unappetizing and way too uneven, to say the least. I wanted out, but I had no idea what to do, where to go, or how to get there. It was like coming to the end of a road and discovering that the last bridge I crossed had been struck by meteors (that I helped direct there) and the road up ahead goes off a cliff into a ravine, like the train tracks in Back to the Future 3.

For years I thought I didn't have a hoverboard or means of escape... but I was wrong*.

I bemoaned my theatre degree for years. I made terrible mistakes. I bemoaned my life choices. I lathered, rinsed, and repeated... and instead of being an agent of change in my life, I became one who reacted, instead of acted. I was a passive, unhappy meatbag of a person.

I bemoaned a whole lotta things, and never really got objective enough to rise above the bleak, depressed person I was and achieve something brighter, something that my Self always knew I was capable of, but never let myself achieve.

But then I made a choice.

To me, this choice was to build a new dream, something with long-term value and interest for myself. (which are evolving every day). I want to get into sustainable landscape urbanism, with a strong eye toward regional environmental balance. We are social animals, and we should live within our environments, in balance... and in cities.

To survive in a foreign culture, I think that you have to be willing to embrace a certain amount of flexibility. This was definitely NOT in my personal vocabulary when I came, or at least not in my immediate brain. My animal brain knew what was up, though, and kicked into gear. And while Flexibility is certainly a skill that theatre helped hone (along with creative problem-solving and keeping a cool head), there were several skills that I discovered came from the most unlikely of places...

No one was more surprised than I to find that these skills originated in acting classes.

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.