Thursday, 3 October, 2013
My Dear Reader,
I am having a hard time. I am lost and confused, and my ambition is failing. I have a skill. I speak Mandarin Chinese, and I am experienced in culture and philosophy. As I have explained previously, my background seems to suggest I pursue medical interpreting. I need to remind myself that I have not yet tried very hard, besides obsessive study, to take-off with this occupation. I am going to have to assert myself physically, and vocally, and aggressively. I need to spend a portion of every day in the field. Walking from clinic to clinic, hospital to hospital. I need to offer volunteer services where it is appreciated, and when there is nothing to do for the day, I need to go to Chinatown, for at least a short while, to be present in the culture. I may even go so far as to invite myself into some of the elderly Chinese communities, such as in the Buddhist centers, and get to know the folks there, and offer them interpreting services directly, if applicable.
My head is jumping all over the place, it’s like my mind is getting more and more out of control. I think it will be beneficial to sit more – that is, to meditate – and allow my mind to settle.
One thing I find fascinating about really trying to do something, and really caring about it, is that I find myself really taking in every little piece of information I can. I pay attention to everything.
As you can see, even now, my mind wanders from thought to though, arbitrarily. I’ve been sitting in front of this keyboard for nearly an hour, and I’ve hardly written a single page. I’m going to go and sit down right now. I’m not going to do anything more, until it is time to go to our Wing Chun school for class.
Reader, if you are reading this, then you are supporting my path, and I hope, in turn to support yours. For the time being, I hope you continue to find this diary useful, or at least entertaining. I hope to support you in more ways, as I develop.
I have a lot of work to do. I will bring my study materials with me even today, and not expect to do much more than what I can with those materials which I can carry.
This diary is meant to be about interpreting, or so you’d think based on the title. Yet, I do wander. Maybe the title is up to interpretation. I’m off.
My dear reader,
I am, faithfully yours,
The Solitary Interpreter