People there only dream that it is China, because if you are Chinese you can never let go of China in your mind.

I was six when my mother taught me the art of invisible strength..."strongest wind cannot be seen."

...we were like two people standing apart on separate mountain peaks, recklessly leaning forward to throw stones at one another, unaware of the dangerous chasm that separated us.

For unlike my mother, I did not believe I could be anything I wanted to be. I could only be me.

I learned to make things not matter, to put a seal on my hopes and place them on a high shelf, out of reach. And by telling myself that there was nothing inside those hopes anyway, I avoided the wounds of deep disappointment. The pain was no worse than the quick sting of a booster shot. And yet thinking about this makes me ache again. How is it that as a child I knew I should have been loved more? Is everyone born with a bottomless emotional resevoir?

We dream to give ourselves hope. To stop dreaming - well, that’s like saying you can never change your fate.

I was punched breathless by the strongest emotions I have ever felt and they are now stored in my intuition as a writer.