Till the end of this world, I will never decline a good cup of coffee.
What we want, have you ever asked?
Dear friends,
How do you show love to others?
This week in algorithm, Youtube threw a bunch of “what I no longer buy in 2024”-kind-of videos into the face of picky-buyer-me.
Curious about how low the bar can be, I watched a bunch of them which selected a wide range of consumerism-influenced thingies from bottled water, gym membership to loungewear and alcohol (big move, not me, I’ve been craving for a cup of hot latte with Baileys).
However, one undesired item did stick with me: physical gift.
The vlogger went on to explain her choice to stop choking others’ places with unwanted stuff in the name of presents. Instead, she’d asked for what they needed or opted for non-physical alternatives.
I saw one thought-provoking loophole here.
It might be easier to transcend love through the act of gifting that sometimes creates an onerous burden on a nervous, overthinking gifter. Otherwise, randomly picking a generally decent product can serve the responsibility though the meaning it carries is just bland.
Gifting is not enough to nurture relationships among human beings.
It’s not simply the duty – on your special day, I give you this, on my special day, I expect that from you.
Showing love is a constant practice interpreted into multiple layers besides giving and taking.
Here is an excerpt from the script of Baumbach-Gerwig’s Frances Ha:
People have moved from the table and are now on the terrace. Frances smokes. She’s drunk. She talks to Nadia.
FRANCES
Nadia, I want this one moment...it’s what I want in a relationship, which might explain why I’m single now ha ha. It’s hard to...it’s like that thing where you are with someone and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eye not because you are possessive or that it’s precisely sexual but because that is your person in this life. And it’s funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it’s a secret world that no one else knows about that exists right there in public unnoticed - sort of like how they say other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s...that’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess. Love. Blah, I sound stoned. I’m not stoned.
(suddenly) Thanks for dinner. Bye!
NADIA
Oh...bye.
The monologue speaks to me (and I hope, us) on so many levels. And it’s no shame to admit that I’ve been grieving lately watching Frances struggling to pull out and detangle the thread of thought in her mind, exposing herself to the risk of being perceived as insane, or worse, cringe to a group of relatively strangers.
I attended a workshop on care with some kindergarten teachers last month. We learn the concept of care – being cared and taking care of, first within our family, then the community we grow up with, then schools we attend – in interactions with teachers and fellow students – before being thrown out to real life with its endless possibilities.
We will meet people we want to be with but to keep them close to your heart demands enormous efforts compared to the bare first encounter.
The workshop speaker said it was devastating when the act of caring was refused. It’s more piercing than a rejected love confession, I guess.
Well then, friends, if you truly love someone, let them know you think of them, give them a bit of attention, ask questions, make a call, look into their eyes, find them in a crowd. More than gifts – physical or non-physical, that’s what we want, at the end of the day, out of a relationship.
I would love to end this letter with another excerpt from Nguyễn Ngoc Thuần’s Open the window, eyes closed that has helped mend my broken heart lately. I hope it will bring you some peace during these beautiful spring days.
With limited English vocabulary, I translate it myself since the official English version is nowhere to be found.
I remember mom usually said when someone is sad, they need others to share it with. Sadness can only be cured by love but not any kinds of medicines. When consoling someone, we will not be sadder but they will feel better. And we should never turn our backs on such a morose person. They need human faces more than medicines. They need hands, hot bowls of porridge or some freshly-picked guavas left on the headboard. They need us to come and sit with them in silence. They need us to take them to a hill to plow a garden, and sometimes ask whether they want some popcorn…
Till next time,
T.
This week’s top picks
If you are enjoying the long holiday in Vietnam, it’s the right time to watch this movie. If you’re somewhere else in the world, don’t say no to the Oslo Trilogy.
A short, powerful Op-Doc on loneliness
A playlist I make for car rides with my parents when we have nothing to say, they don’t like my music and I don’t like their songs of choice. Politics aside, simple and beautifully written lyrics.