Something to Chew On is a newsletter I’ve cooked up to share some of my ruminations and marinations with family, friends, and colleagues. More importantly, though, it’s meant as an invitation to (re)connect, reflect, and be in conversation, at a pace that works with all the goings-on in everyone’s lives. New issues will go out about once every month or two. Happy reading!
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A Joyful Image from Summer
Published 11 months ago • 4 min read
Main Course
A Joyful Image from Summer
October is here, which means many of us have shifted into an autumn frame of mind. Although Summer 2024 is officially behind us, I found inspiration for reflecting on the summer months in this prompt from @TheIsolationJournals:
If you're like me, many of the joys of summer are captured in the photo library of your phone. Scrolling back through this past summer's images, I can easily conjure up the sounds, smells, and tastes of places visited. More importantly, though, the images help me recall emotions I experienced spending time with people I care about. And those feelings explain why one of my most memorable summer joys is captured in a simple photo from a restaurant in Taipei, Taiwan.
I explained within my last newsletter that I am the daughter of Taiwanese immigrants. And although we had extended family in Taiwan when I was growing up, I can only recall making a single trip to visit my parents' home country as a girl. Decades of disconnection kept me from returning as an adult.
Fast forward to last spring, when my husband and I decided to make a visit to Asia part of our family's summer travel plans; our first stop would be Taipei. I felt both excited and anxious as our plane touched down at Taoyuan Airport: excited to introduce my sons to one of their ancestral homelands, and anxious about the feelings the visit might stir up for me, after so many years away.
As I expected, the Taipei we visited this summer was quite different than the one I recalled visiting in my childhood. Certainly, there were memories brought to life again--traditional temples, open fish markets, narrow streets filled with the scent of herb apothecaries, dumplings, and fermented tofu. But in many ways, it reminded me of New York City: modern and bustling, sleek and angular, boasting traffic-lined streets, brightly-lit storefronts, cozy coffee shops, and trendy as well as hole-in-the-wall restaurants seemingly on every corner.
What surprised me most, though, was how I felt on the inside. Returning to this country and seeing it anew, as a parent, I felt a curious sense of pride in showing my sons this place to which they could trace their lineage. It felt somehow poignant, too, knowing that my own feelings of disconnection had made this place more foreign to them--and to me--than it needed to be. I felt a particular vibration in my bones, a sense of reconnection that came uniquely from bringing my sons to touch the soil on which their grandparents and great-grandparents once walked.
Before our visit, I had arranged to meet my paternal auntie and uncle and their respective families for dinner. I hadn't seen either of them since my husband and I were married more than 20 years ago, and their families had grown up and expanded in the time between. My feelings of nervousness returned, but then quickly faded after seeing them and being greeted by their warm smiles and embraces. My sons got introduced to my auntie's and uncle's children, as well as their grandchildren. Three generations of Lees gathered around a table for good food, company, and conversation. It's hard to describe the warmth and generosity I felt, and I was so glad that my husband and boys were there to experience it, too.
In many ways, this photo is a modest one. The lighting isn't great, not everyone is looking at the camera, and we aren't backed by a grand vista or a stunning view of the ocean. But this image nonetheless captures a joyful evening from the summer of 2024, one that I'll be holding onto for a very long time.
What photos from the summer did you take that capture some of the joys--big or small--that you want to hold onto? I invite you to send me a photo or two (or many!) and if you'd like, a sentence of description. With your permission, I'm hoping to share some of these joy-filled pictures in my next newsletter. Let's multiple the mudita, or sympathetic joy, by sharing your memories with others!
Quick Bites
The Isolation Journals
Founded by writer Suleika Jaouad, this artist-led community began during the pandemic as a way of "transforming life's interruptions into creative grist." Each week, a journaling prompt (like the one above) is shared with readers. Although I don't regularly journal, I've found that the prompts inspire me to pause, and to connect thoughts and experiences in novel ways.
To me, this poem by writer W. S. Merwyn speaks to the evocative nature of summer, and its persistence in our minds less as a season, and more as perennial time capsule of sights, sounds, and the changing of the day's light.
A photo of one more small joy from the summer: Cafe Ogada in Insadong, Seoul. My husband, sons, and I quickly became frequent flyers at this second story spot, people-watching while we enjoyed brief respites from the city's summer heat. Sipping on their watermelon drinks tasted like stepping into a cool, refreshing waterfall on a hot afternoon. We got so familiar with the owners of the shop, they even treated us to mochi on the house!
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Something to Chew On
Hi there! I’m Joyce Lee-Ibarra, and I’m a social sector consultant specializing in learning & evaluation, community research, and facilitation. I’m also a wife, mom, and human doing my best to navigate my journey on this giant blue marble.
Something to Chew On is a newsletter I’ve cooked up to share some of my ruminations and marinations with family, friends, and colleagues. More importantly, though, it’s meant as an invitation to (re)connect, reflect, and be in conversation, at a pace that works with all the goings-on in everyone’s lives. New issues will go out about once every month or two. Happy reading!
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