I didn't exactly celebrate my birthday but still I felt blessed because of the recent rekindled passion for reading.
Catherine Cookson. I discovered her a few years ago and have since been fascinated and inspired.
You will know what I mean when you have time to learn more about her life.
Largely thanks to what I have learned about the life of a woman who was born 120 years ago in the poorest region of England, with all the unimaginable sufferings and towering achievements, I have been free of self-pity or loathing or anger against my fate.
Here I want to share my reflections as recorded in my journal.
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On the eve of my 44th year on earth, mellowing in emptiness induced lethargy, I have been given a gift.
I had wondered what I can get myself as a gift that would erase the horrifying humiliation of all the uncelebrated birthdays and those absent gifts. Anything shining luxury would be simply overkilling and might backfire and both my age and this age of the time don’t offer stimulation to the enjoyment of it.
And the nagging shame of my roots and numbing despair of bettering them are the strongest sentiment that I could feel in my numbness. I keep on telling myself I have reached the limits, the transparent but no less impenetrable ceiling.
Besides, my brain, the strongest part of of my being, is showing signs of rapid decline. Both my body and my mind are fruitless. Whatever dream I had of being a writer is concluded with a final wake-up. And I still have another only half life to live out. What good will be there in store for me? A single childless woman? Clothing? Food? Travel? I am both beyond and beneath these bodily undertakings.
Life is a weary business if not carried out for imperative and inspiring purposes. But lo, here, finally I have been shown a life, conceived in sin and born into paralyzing dysfunction and poverty and stigma, tormented in almost every way imaginable, a psyche, as sensitive as mine if not more, an artist, starved of love, respect and education.
- A debilitating vascular disease she inherited from a man who never knew about or wanted her.
- A mother she thought and would rather be her sister, an alcoholic.
- She never could have children.
- The only religion she knew gave her more fear than hope, more smear than salvation.
- She was tormented with rage.
Yet the more I read what Catherine wrote, the more I am amazed at her writing skills – by no means could one tell that this is by a woman of no formal education and born in illegitimacy and absolute poverty over 120 years ago. Imagine if she had had good and appropriate formal training, what would she have achieved!
What more could I say? What excuses do I have for self-pity? Let me list out similarities I found in my life to hers. The order signifies no hierarchy of the attached importance.
1. Birth into poverty and shame - both felt to be born in the wrong place, wrong family and ran away from it as fast and far as we could
2. We share the same horoscope sign = Cancer
3. Lavatory being the safe haven in childhood
4. Frequent dreams of dirty lavatories and flying in the sky
5. Largely self-taught – in terms of literature and English, as a Chinese of my generation
6. Very bad luck with men – but thank God, she got married although at such a late age
7. Childlessness – although mine is due to singleness and abortion
8. Early menopause
9. Middle age mental breakdown – with fear dominating our lives
10. Struggle with established order – communism and her case – Catholicism
11. Natural story telling gift and desire – greater in her case but no small in mine
12. Bundles of emotions we are
13. And a very similar kind of humor
14. Both of us love tests and strive for self-improvement
15. Writing seems the only escape and fulfillment
What did Catherine have that I lack?
1. She was strong willed and insanely hard-working
2. She was proud and determined to be successful
3. She was truly brave
4. She was a naturally gifted painter and piano player – I am going to give myself a piano lesson
5. She was native English speaker and she had a devoted husband (but I have the internet)
What do I have that Catherine could have wanted?
1. A mother who doesn’t drink and is sensible and loving albeit weak minded
2. A very flawed father who is a terrible husband but has favored me and
3. I never had to endure hunger or hard labour. In absolute terms I was very well off as a child.
4. A body that is strong and healthy in general
5. An intact faith
6. A brother with two adorable kids that are as dear to me as I could never have imagined
7. The Internet through which I can educate myself at will and almost no expense
8. And a Catherine Cookson as my role model.
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These thoughts have protected me against despair and desperation, despite another uncelebrated birthday and the prospect of a life condemned to be spent in China.
Let come what may. I am not going to be overpowered.
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