Sunday Breakfast

Sunday morning is a great time to write.  I ate a bowl of original Cheerios, organic banana with tips of Jif creamy, almond breeze milk, the rest of the Fritos Scoops from the bag with bean dip and roasted tomatillo salsa.  I am so thankful to have a full stomach. 

If one of the cardinal rules was not TO MENTION what you had for lunch, breakfast or dinner online then, here I go busting that one.  I understand that rule to apply to one’s act of superficiality, banality and momentary lameness brought upon the mind obsessed with itself and centeredness.  I am guilty of this and innocent.  But my initial point was how grateful I am to be able to feed myself and not go hungry into the day.  My modus operandum has never been about the varnishing of surfaces on things nor the discussion of climate and weather in my neck of the woods unless I am on the phone talking with my mother, father or younger brother.  So unless you are family, do not fear the treaded conversation.

I heard/read recently that in dialects of Chinese, there is a way of greeting that asks, “Have you eaten yet?”  Can you imagine?  Poetry, haiku without the other 12 syllables.  The asian economy of its words leaves impressions of interacting with fortune cookies, eastern philosophy and or broken “engrish”.  If you are like me, and also edumacated and annhilated/assimilated into the dominant=white+ western+ modern (patriarchal)+ am’rIcan culture, then you also love speaking words and language to express yourself in stylish manners that mean little to your family of origin but impress people who don’t  know you.

The journey for me now is to learn how to become vulnerable in order to make genuine connections instead of schoolmarmish distinctions between I and thou.  Has anyone recently read Martin Buber’s I and Thou?  It”s a classic known to have saved lives literally from self destruction.  I totally get the irony that I am being vulnerable in an anonymous blogosphere but a truth is that what I can’t look you in the eye and reveal to you in the course of a personal conversation, I could in theory stand on a stage in front of a darkened audience and relate the story of how my father kept my half brother in a closet as a punishment until Chan peed all over the carpet because he didn’t realize that the closet door was not locked.

Copyright 2010 Hae Jung Kwon. All rights reserved.

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About heartbluestockings

All posts are original intellectual property. Copyright 2010 Hae Jung Kwon. All rights reserved.
This entry was posted in Cultural Criticisms. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Sunday Breakfast

  1. Patricia Williams says:

    Love this post. You had me at Cheerios!

    • Our conversations as well as our Cheerios have a way of floating on top of the “milk” consciousness bobbing up and down. The dance of our thoughts and divination of our insights and knowlegde make us powerful women. Pleased to know you are reading me….in many ways.:-)

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