Looking outside through the window from my desk, I see the world is blanketed with snow. If you get near the snow, you’ll realize it has turned to ice. Only icy snow can crystalize the contour of an object—a branch, a leaf, the top of an iron fence. If it is new snow, the wind has long taken it away to dance with the cold air of December.
I am living in 2025, and yet I feel a good part of my being still living in the past. I dare not to think of future. Future is now. Future is this moment. I am still as falling snow from the treetop catches me by surprise. The weight of snow on the tip of a branch makes the tree to shudder, sending the snow tumbling to the ground. The day following a snowy day is usually quiet. I normally can hear traffic noise from far away in winter after the deciduous trees have lost their leaves, but not in the following day after a snow storm. Even the car passing by my window now sounds less noticeable. The bird that chirps at four thirty in the early morning when I am usually on my way to the gym is singing his love song beneath the snow-cloaked branches. I don’t know the species of the bird by name. I only feel the spiritual being of AZ is with me when this bird sings. Does this live creature embody a human soul? The bird seems to understand my nostalgia, my grief, my ache and loss. The morning birdsong perhaps is a vocal warm-up for the bird, but to me, it keeps me company as if to signal me that you are not alone.
2025 is a year of setbacks and resilience for me. My late husband AZ is with me spiritually on this journey though. He left me a two-bedroom apartment on the ground floor and many wonderful books and archives of his journalist career that spans more than half a century. Being a homeowner is a proud privilege. Privilege, yes, the more I know how to live well in the United States, the more I find this country worships entitlement and privilege. I realize what politicians mean in their campaigns when they often proclaim that your Zip code determines your quality of life and the resources available to you. Near my condo, I have four to five grocery stores within 10 miles radius. My close friend Frank who lives in a small river town in the Adirondacks in upstate New York can only frequent one grocery store near him. He needs to travel more than 20 miles to a bigger supermarket in Saratoga Springs. Well, I can argue that he also has his privilege—that is the tranquility of the rural life and the beauty of Mother Nature. In order to maintain a home and fulfil homeowner’s obligation, I cannot stop working. But on January 8, I was let go unexpectedly. While I was between jobs, I reached out to friends, family in the United States and in China, former classmates, professor and old contacts at work. I was hoping perhaps networking might lead me to a career opportunity. To my disappointment, the reality is when you are not at your best, your charisma in social relationships diminishes. I recall the longest stretch I spent job hunting lasted eighteen months. I have also experienced a couple of years of fulltime writing without income. This time, I felt more urgent to find my next job than previous times mainly because I am solely responsible for my existence as a human and a homeowner.
They say, when God closes one door, he opens another. I am grateful to my former coworker and best friend Aeran who put me in touch with her longtime customer friend Javier. At hearing my name, Javier knew who I am but he told me on the phone that he had another candidate in mind, he would like to think through and get back to me. In later months of this year, after I was hired by him in the end, I learned from him that what held him back from giving me the job immediately were the rumors about me that he had heard from my former coworker. There I realize in the United States not only office politics is commonplace, rumors and gossips are tactics used by ill-minded people to manipulate others—for this character flaw, I’d say it is universal. In my memoir “Golden Orchid,” The Bitchy Stuff is a character that exemplifies this moral weakness. Although my childhood story took place decades ago in China, it has shaped my understanding of human nature across diverse groups of people and races. A famous Chinese saying goes: “One must never harbor the intention to harm others, but one must always guard against being harmed by others (害人之心不可有，防人之心不可无).” I also remember in the Lord’s Prayer, there is a line saying: “. . . forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” I ask myself, when I trespass on others, do I know it beforehand, or does my awareness come too late?
On February 14 after a snow storm, I started my new job at a local construction company as Director of Operations. Until today, I am still grateful to my boss for his leap of faith in me. He took the chance and wagered that I could serve his company well. I remember at my interview I left him my resume voluntarily but I doubt he read it at all. I landed the job without a resume. This makes me to ponder for months, why am I spending so many hours crafting my resume? Sadly, every webinar and virtual job fair I’ve attended since the Covid pandemic has conveyed the same message: the job market is rapidly shifting toward AI-assisted tools, and resumes are no longer reviewed by humans in the initial rounds of screening. Technology is helping humans to write well instantly and human would rather train a machine to think and create than invest on human’s core skill—learning to learn. I write; I might write poorly but I can edit my work. Now, I am learning to partner with AI to do almost everything. This year is perhaps my closest partnership with ChatGPT at work yet. In my new role, I have taught myself a wide range of skills, from small business operations and finance to technical management and trade knowledge.
In March, the company’s bookkeeping software underwent a major change. Some data went missing during the migration from the desktop version to the online cloud-based version. After I rebuilt the online architecture, my boss changed his mind simply because he couldn’t access the customized financial reports he relied on for decision-making. As a result, we had to abandon the online version and revert to the desktop version. Since the two versions are not fully interchangeable, I had to learn the desktop version from scratch and spent two months to recover the lost data while simultaneously entering new data to support daily operations. I worked more than forty hours a week without compensation during those months. The outcome has been rewarding as I have become a stronger problem solver.
Since April, my journey of lifelong learning has continued steadily. I have taken courses offered by various educational institutions as well as the United Nations. I have earned four certificates, ranging from strengthening my management skills in the green digital sector and enhancing my knowledge of small business finance and accounting, to gaining a foundational understanding of international environmental governance and advising on individual income tax. I enjoy going to school but which school will accept a middle-aged woman who is curious about everything in and out of this Planet?
When I discussed my career path with my mentor, Professor Robertson, he advised me to pinpoint a focus and deepen my expertise to refine my career path. I remember my former classmate once said, you are looking for your next job and your next job is also looking for you. I confess that since I arrived in America sixteen years ago, I have been looking for my next job. I don’t know how I got into residential remodeling; I never planned for it. But when I read the book “There is No Place For Us: Working and Homeless in America,” I was stunned to learn that the living condition, which were even poorer than those of my childhood as depicted in my memoir, still exist in the United States in 2025. I was delighted to learn that in the county where I reside I can enroll a course for adults to study green building construction. Becoming a fulltime writer is my ultimate goal. Perhaps to achieve it, I must take many twists and turns, experiencing life as the foundation for both financial stability and creative inspiration. Perhaps, making my life in America meaningful is to help the homeless and folks like me who strive to fulfil homeowner’s responsibilities on a tight budget to improve their homes.
At the end of year, I easily fall into a contemplative mood. I know that in the first few years, I will remember exactly how many years have passed since a loved one died. Time is a healer. Gradually, that number becomes blurry, eventually fading from memory. What remains is the deep remembrance in my heart, gently nudging me to recognize that the void left by someone’s physical absence has enriched his spiritual presence within me. Time has lost its power to capture the depth of our love for one another. Similarly, what I have done this year will be clearly remembered in the next year or two, but as I grow older, part of this memory lane will be inevitably fracture and fade. I may not remember every detail of what I did in 2025, but every decision I made this year is a seed for the future—some will thrive, some will die, and some will evolve into unexpected circumstances. I am still navigating my way toward my next career opportunity.
