Waves

Ever since my month-long trip to China and India this past July, I’ve been reflecting. Why did it feel so good? A long vacation, sure. But I realized the constant dopamine rush came from the impact we were making—the waves we created wherever we went. 

Simply being the version of myself I chose to be, living a life I purposefully designed regardless of societal expectations, and existing in pure satisfaction and contentment was enough to stir something deep in the hearts of those around me.

One of my relatives in China put it best: "You guys are so happy, all of you. That happiness is pure, deep, and unapologetic—it's rare to see. I'm so grateful to witness it and deeply moved by it. Please come back every year."

Yes, we’ve lived in the land of individualism for almost as long as we lived away from it. Here, most people around us reside on their own private planets. Over the years, we’ve learned to expand our universe to fill an entire planet of our own—all while keeping ties to neighboring worlds by honoring our duties and responsibilities.

That's why we're different: we can light up our own universe with uninhibited freedom, while remaining firmly anchored and nurturing to the world around us.

As part of this reflection, I’ve also wondered: now that the constant dopamine rush has faded, how do I face the banality of a seemingly ordinary life back home? Is it any less meaningful simply because we aren't creating wave after wave in other people's lives?

But as I stepped back into my weekly volunteering—teaching musical storytime to three TK classes—as I fully immersed myself in being a new dog mom, tending to every detail of a energetic growing puppy from 6:30 a.m. to 10:00 p.m., and as I settled back into my devoted parent routine to ensure my kids build solid habits for life, I realized something vital: I never stopped creating waves.

Meaning doesn't require a grand stage or a distant horizon; it takes root in the quiet, steady rhythm of the everyday. The waves I create at home may not crash against foreign shores, but they shape the bedrock of the lives I hold closest. Ocean or living room, the gravity remains the same—I am making waves, and my universe is already full.