Reflections 1967-2017

Lê Trung Chính

Socrates once said that a life not examined is not worth living. I would dare to disagree, for every life is worth living. Perhaps. Unless the pain is unbearable and the remedies futile. But is there some truth that not every life is worth examining? After all, the vast majority of mankind lives in a stuporous state of boring routine, unfulfilled expectations and fragile hopes. Even biographies of celebrities eventually end up in thrift stores for $0.99 a copy. So are human lives worth examining?

The US AIDS 50^th Reunion organizers must have thought so, when they suggested that we would share a few words about ourselves, orally or in writing. There is indeed something special about any 50^th birthday or 50^th anniversary. Fifty years – or half a century of water under the bridge -‐ is a good milestone to stop at and quietly reflect on one’s life. Enough time for a man, or a human generation, to look back, without trepidation, at the roads traveled, and to contemplate what is ahead in the fewer remaining years one can perhaps look forward to. Most likely, many of you, torn from the old homeland and grafted into this New World, have quite a story to share. I personally can’t think of many interesting things in my own life to talk about, but perhaps it is still a good mental exercise for myself to pause and reflect.

It has been said that life is a compromise, or so I thought for many years. Probably for many of us, multiculturalism involves conflicts and compromises of the values we were raised with and the values of our adoptive society. But living with compromises takes the gusto out of living. To compromise is to think in terms of give and take, gains and losses. To settle for more or less. To swing between being content and regretful. Would we be happier if we learned how to live without counting our losses, without trying to renegotiate our past with what-if’s, and learn to deal with the present without the anxiety and restlessness of winning and loosing? If reconciliation and serenity were to be the blessings of old age, then I should count all differences and challenges as opportunities to grow, to expand the truth, and to live my life as an embrace of all good things done with the most honest of intention, and in the best possible way, albeit never perfect. Life is not about negotiating the best deal for ourselves. It is accepting with gratitude all that is offered to us. With patience and endurance, sometimes, when we have to wait out the storm; with grace and empathy toward others, always, when we happen to get more than we deserve.

Another reflection that keeps coming back to me is how life is full of unknowns and surprises. 1967: I was a young lad just out of high school riding my bicycle along the hectic, dusty streets of Saigon, uncertain and impatient about my future, barely speaking any English and knowing so little about the world. 2017: I am now a man living out his old age in a small town in Oregon, half the earth away from where I started. As the winter sun plays hide-‐and-‐seek with the rain and clouds above, I am contemplating my tranquil life but still worried about a wider world in turmoil beyond me. How did I get from there to here? Who planned this life of mine? Would any of the roads not taken have made a difference?

The who I am, and always will be, was crafted and nurtured by my parents, my family and the childhood community I grew up in. My genes, my mental health and personality, and my life values were embedded in me long before I left Việt Nam. The what I became, and where I am now, was the result of choices and chances. Mostly chances: Sometime, somewhere along the road, an inspiring mentor led me toward a rewarding career; one day, a genuine smile brought me love at first sight and has stayed with me as the sweetheart of my life; and perhaps along the way, many other people have changed the curves of my path without my knowing, even now. No one could have ever predicted how the dice rolled and fell, how a gust of wind could have changed the sails, and in the end, what a lucky guy I have been.

I can only be thankful to this land that has accepted me, even if my heart and mind often gravitate back to the land where I was born but is no longer mine. As a young immigrant, I was intrigued by the American Declaration of Independence, which defines “the pursuit of happiness” as an unalienable right of all men. But it is no longer a concept I reckon with nowadays. To pursue happiness is to never have it in our hands, for as long as we are pursuing something, that something is one step ahead of us, making us unsatisfied and restless. Fifty years since that fateful landing of the Pan American jet plane in LA, and after many years of higher education and decent work, happiness is neither a diploma to frame, nor a career achievement certificate to hang like a self-‐portrait on a wall. No, we should not pursue happiness. But we can try to find it inside us. Without compromises, and with a generous dose of good luck.

May we all find rest and inner peace on this 50^th reunion.

Lê Trung Chính,

Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, 1967-69

Corvallis, Oregon, January 1, 2017

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(Silk painting by Le Trung Chinh)