Both Sides Now

I write this essay inspired by the song ‘Both Sides Now’ by Joni Mitchell.

 

Rows and floes of angel hair…

And ice cream castles in the air…

And feather canyons everywhere…

I’ve looked at clouds that way…

 

But now they only block the sun…

They rain and snow on everyone…

So many things I would have done…

But clouds got in my way…

 

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now…

From up and down, and still somehow…

It’s cloud illusions I recall…

I really don’t know clouds at all…

It has been 291 days since I left my family, friends, and colleagues – my entire community behind and living abroad – in a completely new society with new cultures. With that, every day, I discover more about myself. It is an adventure, much like I am traveling through the jungle – you have to pave your own way: you may have moments of excitement at seeing new things, you may have moments to prove your identity in one way or another, you may have barriers to overcome, you may meet travelers like you along the way, you may have small victories to celebrate and moments when you make people feel loved. But you will also make mistakes and missteps that hurt yourself and others.

Living out of my own country seems to be a new level of experience, growth, and reward. But it also carries the pain of longing and the struggle to belong truly. It is both a reality and an illusion, like a head and tail in a coin.

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels…

The dizzy dancing way you feel…

As every fairy tale comes real…

I’ve looked at love that way…

 

But now it's just another show…

You leave 'em laughing when you go…

And if you care, don't let them know…

Don't give yourself away...

 

I've looked at love from both sides now..

From give and take, and still somehow…

It's love's illusions I recall…

I really don't know love at all…

Looking back on my life, I was – and still am – a very ordinary, average guy who grew up in (what was once a peaceful) central region of Myanmar (Burma). I got a public education that focused on rote memorization under the complete control of the (previous) military regime. We had a library that was locked forever –  I only had two weekly journals and one monthly literature magazine to read.

On a daily basis, it was painful to see my parents struggling. It was painful to be too dependent on relatives and I was not able to have the capability yet to control my own life. My childhood was quiet intellectually and filled with unspeakable wounds internally. I felt like I was being broken into pieces, yet life forced me to run through one trial to the next without having the time to fix what had already fallen apart inside me.   

 

Tears and fears and feeling proud…

To say "I love you" right out loud…

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds…

I've looked at life that way…

Yet, through all of this, I have also known what it is like to feel loved, to feel warmth, support and compassion. And I have realized that love is not always about wanting to be loved or to love. I learned it from my relationship with my father, where I once tried to define myself by what I did not want to be like him. But looking at both sides now, I understand that I’m shaped by both what I embrace and what I reject.

In my journey of self-discovery, I have learned that we carry stories within us – stories of pain and doubts but also of resistance, resilience, and hope. Some days, I want to crawl into bed, do not want to do anything, and struggle even to eat. But most days, I get up, dress up, put on a smile, and do what I am supposed to do, cry a bit along the way and share what I am going through with my loved ones. It is like I want to be in the fairytale, and I have my life clock to keep going in reality.

I now realize that we will forever carry our past with us and may never fully understand life. But, what would make us different is reclaiming our painful experiences and making sense of our lives – to live, love, and share – one story at a time.

 

But now old friends are acting strange…

They shake their heads, they say I've changed…

Well something's lost, but something's gained…

In living every day…

With the broken pieces inside me, my whole life has been a struggle with all kinds of relationships – I have had bumpy friendships and some romantic relations that I wish could last yet they fell apart one after another. There were times when some relationships hurt me, and I hurt them back. There were times when my ego was bigger than my love. There were times when I was ready to forgive, yet I was not asked to forgive. And then, friends turn into strangers. I almost do not want to keep trying to warm up with the relationship with my father.

 

I've looked at life from both sides now…

From win and lose and still somehow…

It's life's illusions I recall…

I really don't know life at all…

I've looked at life from both sides now…

From up and down and still somehow…

It's life's illusions I recall…

I really don't know life at all…

I have never been someone who enjoys celebrating birthdays. A birthday to me means one more yesterday and one less tomorrow. I am approaching 33 in just a few weeks in a raw. In Myanmar, the average life expectancy is 67 years. Said that half of my life was already behind me. Lately, I find myself thinking about myself being dead more frequently.

I ask myself: I have lived on this earth for nearly 33 years. Do I dare enough to see myself from both sides truly? Have I fully embraced my strengths as much as my flaws? Have I unlearned enough while racing to learn many new things? Have I dared enough to live fully?

Maybe I will never fully understand life, love, and even myself. Maybe none of us really do. But if there is one thing I am sure of, it will be this: I will try to keep looking, questioning, and embracing both the light and dark. I will live. I will love. And I will share. I will suffer. I will heal. And I will begin again.

Because, in the end, understanding life is not the whole point – living it is.