Traveling Thursdays: India, you are on my mind.

While in Singapore earlier this month, the Gentleman Lover, his cousin, friend and I ended up in Little India where we wandered aimlessly around the stalls and hole-in-the-wall stores of the loudest, most chaotic part in the city.

But God did I feel so alive steering my way through that crowd and those small and cramped alleyways; my spirit taking in all of the sounds, sights, and smells, before we spilled onto the main streets, which were filled with even more people, more noise, more color, more life.

India, you are on my mind. One day, I'm sure, you will be part of my heart as well.

{gorgeous photos via National Geographic}

The "big" plan, on a napkin.

Those doodles? That napkin? Andrew Mason's "business plan" for his first collective action website, The Point, which then later lead to superstar start-up Groupon. 

Amazing, isn't it? 

Yet another reminder to myself (and others) that everything big, once started somewhere very small.

I always feel.

"I always feel like I’m struggling to become someone else. Like I’m trying to find a new place, grab hold of a new life, a new personality. I guess it’s part of growing up, yet it’s also an attempt to reinvent myself. By becoming a different me, I could free myself of everything.

I seriously believed I could escape myself- as long as I made the effort. But I always hit a dead end. No matter where I go, I still end up me. What’s missing never changes. The scenery may change, but I’m still the same old incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that I can never satisfy. I guess that lack itself is as close as I’ll come to define myself.

For your sake, I’d like to become a new person. It may not be easy, but if I give it my best shot, perhaps I can manage to change. The truth is, though, if put in the same situation again, I might very well do the same thing all over. I might very well hurt you all over again.

I can’t promise anything. That’s what I meant when I said I had no right. I just don’t have the confidence to win over that force in me."

- From one of my most favorite authors, Haruki Murakami

Moving in a different direction.

I received some disappointing news recently about a job I had applied to nearly two months ago.

It was a process that took much longer than both sides anticipated (punctuated by my being out of the country for two weeks, I'm sure) as we went through several interviews and conversations. In the end, the Senior Vice-President sent me a letter, with two complimentary tickets to the organization's (amazing) museum, with no formal offer for me to accept.

Maybe this last act served to soften up the blow, but I highly appreciated the generosity. I honestly never knew a rejection letter could sound so gracious -- which made it mildly more sad that I will not be joining the department. Everyone was genuinely nice and personable, and it was probably one, if not the, most enjoyable "interviews" I have ever had. We all shared quite a few laughs, and the same sense of dry, sarcastic humor. My could-have-been boss and I talked about various topics like fashion, travel, and books, and he even emailed me an incredibly flattering note regarding my accomplishments and abilities the day after we met.

But, to be completely frank, the disappointment was incredibly shortlived. Because the words that stayed with me the longest -- long after I had heard and read them and folded the letter and its contents away -- were "moving in a different direction". Because it was in that rejection that a realization also came to light; that even though I greatly admired the organization and its mission, the bulk of the position itself did not align with my strengths and interests. And so, to be completely frank once again, I am mostly just more relieved that I can now move on.

Because that's what it all it comes down to, no? We keep on moving, moving, moving in a new direction. Everything happens for a reason.

Painting smiles.

There is a partner at my firm, whose office is a few doors down the hallway from me.

He has been with us for about a year, and not a day goes by that he comes into work without whistling or singing a tune -- loudly, and slightly off-key, but always without any apology.

Although I have heard other people complain, his humming always leaves me incredibly amused. In fact, it is from this small and simple act of his that I have since been inspired to implement three daily goals:

To act, speak, and think authentically without letting anyone else's opinions affect me.

To always remember that it is the little things that make the bigger differences.

To never let a day go by without painting a smile on another's face.

It's Friday, and I miss speaking French.

It's Friday. I am sitting here, reviewing this past week's events in my head, while I (try to) wait very patiently for an important call that could either transport me to the next chapter of my life, or be stored away as a great experience.

Either way, I am grateful for the consideration and opportunity.

Either or, I am at peace, and am ready to move on.

Isn't it funny that, the more experiences, skills, and abilities you accumulate through life, you sometimes forget about the basic talents that you excelled so greatly at, and enjoyed so much, as a child? People often compliment me on my writing, and although I am undoubtedly flattered, this always makes me a little sad afterwards, as their nice words and praises remind me of a time growing up when I used to pen silly poems that rhymed, and short stories that didn't make any sense in Vietnamese; a time when the idea and dream of becoming a writer and author was such a powerful one, that I aspiringly started on first chapters of future novels in both English and French whenever I had a free moment on my hands.

Oh, French. Today, I miss my command of the language I was immersed in from the age of four through thirteen, where the only time we were allowed to speak English was during English class. Our teachers kept telling us, Vous allez oublier le francais si vous ne parlez pas francais a chaque heure, de chaque jour.

Of course, we didn't listen. And of course, after many years of being educated in english in highschool and college -- after many years of not practicing it, shelving it away, not having any time or energy for it -- I did forget.

Oh, but I miss it. I really do. So, so much. Not because French is a love language, or because it is romantic, or sexy (even though it is all of those things, and more), but moreso because it was the first language other than the one I was born into that allowed me to capture the breadth and depth of my emotions and imagination -- the first language I could call mine, and not my parents', nor my parents' parents.

C'est vrai. My accent is (absolutely) terrible now. I (probably) write at a very elementary level. I (definitely) struggle to find words to express myself, and I fumble (way too often) to even spend time finding the right words.

Mais c'est vraiment pas une excuse. Je peux toujous commencer -- maintenant, aujourd'hui, cette fin de semaine.

I will be in New York this weekend, and I am giggling at all the opportunities I will get to pretend that I am visiting the city with my American friends, not understanding a lick of English when pesky men approach me at the bar. S'il-vous-plait, laissez-moi tranquille. Merci!

Living your strongest and happiest life.

I've found that the universe always has an uncanny way of leaving you little hints of what's to come; always showing you that you are on the right (or wrong!) path, with small signs here and there to guide you along the way.

All you have to do, is take notice, and listen; to be prepared and armed with a plan, ready for action.

Not too long after I wrote about my resolve to be (and become, still) a happier person a few days ago, I received in my inbox an interesting newletter article from SUCCESS Magazine titled, "Come on and get happy."

*looks around*.

*points to self*.

Wait. Who should be getting (more) happy, me?

Oh, yeah. Me.

The article referred to a study conducted by the National Bureau of Economic Research, where research suggested that life satisfaction, particularly among women, is declining. Data pulled from the study, which involved over 45,000 women over a period of 40 years, pointed to two things: that not only are we less happy than our male counterparts, but that we are also gradually becoming less and less happy, period.

I was both relieved, yet appalled when I read this. Relieved because it feels good not to be alone in my discontent, but completely appalled because we aren't the helpless, passive, or reactive sex that society seems to (still) make us out to be. We can totally do something about this. We can actively and fully regain and embrace our power to be happy.

But perhaps the bigger question on everyone's mind is, how?

I then found out about Marcus Buckingham, a New York Times bestselling author, motivational speaker, and all-around personal strengths expert, who tackled the subject of women's happiness in his book, Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently. According to him, the happiest and most successful women of our time exhibited certain similarities, such as:

• focusing their lives on their best moments;
• letting go of what doesn't strengthen them;
• and, perhaps the most important one of all to me, accepting who they are.

More specifically, he urges women to explore the role they were born to play -- and then play it well.

(To find out your role, you can take his quiz at StrongLifeTest.com, which gives you a number of different hypothetical situations, with a variety of possible decision choices for each. The choice you make in each situation then indicates your interests, strengths, and the corresponding role that's likely to be most fulfilling for you.)

"Knowing your role is like having a compass providing direction on where to find happiness," he says. "The test provides a clear distinction of your biggest strength and suggests career moves that match those strengths."

Now, as we all know, women play a multitude of roles these days, from mothers, daughters, and sisters, to executives, consultants, or assistants. But I think Buckingham's on to something here, and I'm just mad he jumped on it before I (or anyone else) did.

After taking the quiz a few times over the past few days, and consistently scoring the "Creator" role each and every time, I've realized that I am at my best -- and, ultimately, happiest -- when I am developing new content, writing or blogging, brainstorming ideas or implementing new systems, or even just randomly doodling on the side of my notebook during meetings.

And although this realization was more of a reaffirmation of my existing strengths versus a more epic A-HA! moment of utter clarity, I took this as a good sign that I am doing something right; that even though my current job is nowhere near what I envision myself doing down the line, "for the rest of my life", at least I am creating, and finding, opportunities for myself to get to that point, one day.

And, you better believe I will appreciate it so much more when I do.

Yugen.

It is never a crime to feel too much -- but I have to admit that it can be a little inconvenient to do so, sometimes.

What's a girl to do with all these feelings and thoughts swirling about in her head and heart? Someone please tell me, because I'd sure like to know.

There are the happy people of Bali. And then there's me.

One of the things that left such a deep impression on me during my time in Bali, was the strong, omnipresent sense of spirituality that guide the Balinese people in their everyday lives. Over 90% of the Balinese are Hindu, and their devotion to their religion is greatly apparent, no matter where you are on the island.

Temples with beautiful, spacious courtyards, and intricate sculptures were at every turn. The smell of incense permeated the air at every other hour, past every other corner. You could not take more than a few steps before you risked walking on some small offerings -- flowers, fruits, candy, and sometimes even cigarettes, tucked in little woven, leaf boxes on the ground or random sidewalk nooks.

It was all so wonderful to behold, and being able to witness the peaceful, gentle manner in which these people went about their daily, simple routines was truly a blessing. Despite their troubles, everyone I met seemed so content; so at ease, and at peace, with their place and role in the world.

This got me thinking about my own daily life back home, in the States, and how unhappy I've been for a very long time now. I was never really sure how, nor when, this chronic dissatisfaction started, exactly. I just knew that no matter how often I smiled or laughed out loud -- no matter how genuinely happy I was in that moment -- there was always the tiniest sense of emptiness; a hollowness that would echo back within me when the silence settled back down again deep down inside my core.

Reading a friend's recent blog entry made me realize that I, too, was an incredibly happy child who learned to create her own happy moments when times were less than ideal or sad. As I grew up, I never relied on anyone else to entertain me or comfort me when I was upset or frustrated. Now that I am an adult, I am sometimes accused of being "too independent", or "emotionally distant and cold", not allowing anyone to support me or help me when I need it the most. Sometimes, however, being strong is merely a cover up for weakness underneath. In my case, I let the stress and anxiety build up inside, and then it all comes out at the most inopportune moments. Misdirected anger. Uncontrollable crying, shaking, sobbing. In the past year or so, I started becoming someone I don't really recognize anymore.

First comes the awareness that the problem exists. Now comes the time for some major changes to take place.

It is so easy to forget that we are the only ones responsible for our own happiness. It is even easier to rely on other people or external factors as our primary source of joy. I may have just returned from an amazing trip abroad, but another journey is ahead of me now, one that needs to start from within.

Because happiness is a daily habit. And I intend to make it one of my best ones from now on.

Cherish your solitude.

Cherish your solitude.

Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars.

Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back.

Say no when you don't want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees.

Decide whether you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you're doing here.

Believe in kissing.


- Eve Ensler, best known for creating the ground-breaking "Vagina Monologues".

A taste of paradise.

Second to last night in Bali and I never want to leave.