Life Hasn't Been Exactly Normal

These days, the toughest question to answer seems to be the simple: “How are you?”

It feels almost disingenuous to respond with a casual “I’m fine” or “I’m doing well, thanks,” without forcing a smile or feeling like you’ve told a lie. Because the truth is, the world isn’t fine. And most of us, myself included, are just hanging on by a thread.

I confess: I’ve been doom-scrolling exponentially a lot more this year than I ever thought I would. My ability to focus took a nosedive. Some days I couldn’t get anything done. Staying informed in 2025 literally feels like emotional self-sabotage. An endless loop of depressing news bombards you day after day, hour after hour. It’s exhausting. It’s enraging. And at times, it has left me with helpless paralysis. But if there’s anything positive that came out of it, it’s that this has been one of the most clarifying years of my life. Never before have I questioned so deeply what it means to be human, where my moral boundaries lie and what true allyship looks like in the face of egregious injustice.

We all have our own lives to worry about — work, bills, health, relationships, families. But if you’ve really been paying attention to what’s been going on around us, things are far more grim than we’d like to believe. Here in Canada, the economy still feels bruised from the pandemic. The housing market is a sluggish mess, inflation shows no signs of easing, small businesses are struggling, and homelessness seems to be widespread across the country. South of the border, fascism is rearing its ugly head. Gun violence remains completely out of control. Homophobia, transphobia and xenophobia surge back into the mainstream. Cruelty is normalized. And empathy is running on fumes.

Then there’s the rest of the world. The genocide in Gaza, broadcasted live through our phones for two years, rages on, with new atrocities inflicted daily by the Israeli government and military. Corruption and greed fester in governments everywhere (until ordinary folks rise up and say enough is enough, like with the recent revolts in Nepal and Indonesia). The gap between the rich and poor continues to widen. Online, youths are being radicalized in echo chambers run by nefarious personalities. Hate speech goes unchecked. And AI, for better but mostly worse, is gradually swallowing up our feeds, our attention and our jobs.

To all of this, I could’ve easily tuned out, scrolled past, pretended I didn’t see and called it “protecting my mental health.” That mindset, I’ve come to learn, is very dangerous, particularly in times like these. Turning a blind eye doesn’t magically make things better; it only perpetuates the harm.

Haruki Murakami, one of my favourite authors, put it perfectly:

“Closing your eyes isn’t going to change anything. Nothing’s going to disappear just because you can’t see what’s going on. In fact, things will even be worse the next time you open your eyes. That’s the kind of world we live in. Keep your eyes wide open. Only a coward closes his eyes.”

As a queer Asian who knows all too well the humiliation, bullying and dehumanization that come with simply existing in this world, I understand how silence in the face of oppression only feeds the abuse. It’s the same mechanism that allows cruelty to persist, whether it’s against queer people, people of colour or those living under siege in Gaza.

Like many, I knew very little about Israel and Palestine until human rights organizations and activists I follow began sounding the alarm. I remember watching the horrors of October 7, 2023 unfolded and the swift retaliation by Israel. At first, I bought into the narrative that Israel was defending itself. But as the weeks went on, as the death toll of innocent civilians climbed, as disturbing videos and firsthand accounts from Gaza surfaced, it became painfully clear that what’s happening in Gaza isn’t “self-defense”. It’s a decades-long campaign to eradicate an entire ethnic group and seize their land.

As harrowing as that realization was, it forced me to re-examine my moral compass. Watching in silence was no longer enough. So I started taking small but deliberate actions: attending rallies, signing petitions, donating to families in Gaza, supporting independent journalists and media and walking away from brands/corporations complicit in the violence. My individual efforts may seem inconsequential, but I believe that when more of us act collectively, we have the power to shift the narrative.

I want to be clear: this isn’t about moral grandstanding. I’m not writing this to sound virtuous. I’m writing this because I know how easy it is to give in to nihilism and despair. This is a reminder, for myself and anyone reading, to not look away. To think critically. To hold our privileges in check. To speak up even when our voices shake. To remember that none of us are free until all of us are free.

As I write this, I glance out the window. The sky is a clear blue, and the trees are just beginning to turn. The season of transition is upon us. Change has always been the only constant in life. Even in the bleakest times, I try to hold on to that sliver of hope. I still dare to dream for a better tomorrow. I dream of a day when those who’ve committed war crimes are held accountable. I dream of peace, of justice, of a world where our leaders choose empathy over power and equality triumphs over division. I dream of a future where those who spoke up, who risked everything to defend equality and human rights, who remained steadfast in their convictions, are remembered as true heroes.

And finally, I dream of a free Palestine.

Some Recent Life Things

• I experienced what I’d call a minor midlife crisis last month. It started with my usual (albeit infrequent) bout of occipital neuralgia, a type of headache with a sharp, throbbing pain that feels like someone’s poking the back of your head with a needle. Normally, it goes away within a day, but this time it overstayed its welcome. By day three, I was stuck in bed, spiralling into thoughts about death, aging (I turned 39 in August, mind you), my late brother William (who would’ve turned 41 last week) and existential dread. Thankfully, the pain subsided and I was able to get back on my feet.

• I got a Beats Pill speaker and am loving it so far! I love how easy it is to carry around and place it anywhere I want. The sound quality is surprisingly solid too.

• I went to my first-ever rally for Palestine in downtown Vancouver. It was a meaningful experience. I brought my camera along to document the event, spoke with a few people and picked up a pin along with a beautiful handmade tatreez embroidery of a watermelon — a symbol of the resilience of the Palestinian people.

• My brother came back for a short visit in September and Mom spoiled us with her delicious homemade meals. We didn’t do anything particularly exciting, but just having them around filled me with energy. Before he flew back to NYC, I couldn’t help but nag him to stay safe.

• I went to see ALOK’s comedy show, A Hairy Situation, last month. It was phenomenal. Their eloquence floors me every time they speak. Non-binary artist Michael Blume opened the show with their soulful, gospel-like pop hits. I was mesmerized by their voice from start to finish. I even got to meet ALOK after the show and had them autograph my copy of their book, Beyond the Gender Binary, and even snagged a selfie with them!

• The brilliant and fearless ladies over at I’ve Had It have been keeping me both informed and entertained about the circus that is the United States of America. With some of my friends and family residing there, I can’t help but feel dread about where things are headed.

• My work was featured on Capture One’s Instagram account, which was a lovely surprise. I’ve been busy working on a bunch of travel blog posts. Apologies for the delay but I promise they are coming. I’ve also got an overseas trip coming up in December and I’m very much looking forward to a change of scenery.

• I bought a new Kobo Clara Colour e-reader! It’s still sitting in the box, but I’ll report back on my thoughts once I’ve actually started using it for some time.

• I’ve said goodbye to several brands complicit in the genocide in Gaza, including ZARA, Indigo and Chevron. I’ve also been reducing my reliance on products/services from giant corporations like Amazon, Uber (switched to local taxis like Yellow Cab or Black Tops) and Google (moved from Chrome to Mozilla Firefox).

• I’ve been listening to Olivia Dean’s new album, The Art of Loving. My favourite track, without a doubt, is “Let Alone the One You Love.” I teared up a bit after listening. Her voice feels perfectly made for jazzy, soulful songs.

Stay Informed About Palestine

• Funds for Gaza — A curated list of vetted fundraisers supporting families and aid efforts.

• Let’s Talk Palestine — A clear and comprehensive resource for learning about the history and ongoing genocide in Gaza.

• Metro Vancouver United 4 Palestine — For locals living in Vancouver, follow their Instagram to stay updated on rallies, workshops and community events.

• Just Peace Advocates — A Canadian human rights organization dedicated to the Palestinian cause, sharing insightful newsletters and petitions that hold politicians accountable.

• BDS Movement — Regularly updated information on brands complicit in Israel’s occupation, apartheid and ongoing genocide.