With Glowing Hearts.

Wow. What a party.

What a rush.

Jolly people everywhere you go. Flag-bearing patriots eager to show their pride. Tons of enthusiasm like you've never seen people. Flocks of happy people jamming the streets, flags and beach balls and all. Horns sounding, music blasting, lights shining up into the sky as if to light up this city to be visible from outer space.

Everywhere you go, it's about people coming together and celebrating the combined passion of nations. It's always about, "WE won this.. WE won that..." Everything is a collective effort. Even though none of us did any part in any of these athletes' successes, we view their triumphs as our collective reward. "We want gold," we'd say, and when we get it, "WE got gold!"

I love seeing this collective enthusiasm. I find it quite amazing, these Olympic games, in how they bring people together, to celebrate the competitive spirit, but always in a respectable, honorable way. Athletes battle each other because their lives depends on it. Spectators battle each other in voices and in passion because we love getting into it. This is when nations truly become one, and people join forces because we love celebrating our likeness, not differences.

We see hockey teams, comprised entirely of leadership talents from all different professional teams, some of whom had battled each other to the bone in previous competitions, willingly and passionately setting aside all differences, instantly becoming brothers-in-arms towards a common goal. Their motivation might be self-serving, because they want to be Olympic champions. But their efforts define national pride, and their actions become larger than their lives could ever be.

It's funny, when the games begin, because of what I was going through mentally, I was almost completely disinterested in the games. I came to my senses only days before the Opening Ceremony and realized how special it would be to allow my parents to go, and I luckily found them tickets to be there. Watching the ceremony on TV did catch my attention, but I never caught the bug until well into the games. I drove by city venues without feeling the urge to visit them. I watched events on TV without really urging my fellow Canadians on.

All changed when I start noticing how happy, how excited, and how passionate these games have made everyone feel on the streets. The city has done an amazing job making these games become everybody's games, not just the athletes'. It's a straight 17-day party that never had a low moment. Citizens and tourists rejoice in the live atmosphere that is filled with live music and wonderful lighting. Giant LCD televisions plastered at every corner and in every restaurant allowing you to live the athletic excitement wherever you go. It makes you want to become part of this. It makes you want to be involved. When my Dad came home super excited one day, and he usually hates crowds and avoids them at all costs, I knew that the city had had it right this time.

With one day to go, I already know I'm going to miss this. This has been 17 unbelievable days, and I'm very thankful that my work schedule allowed me to almost not miss any part of this experience. I'm very thankful I got a chance in the end to volunteer for the second week, as I've always enjoy being a part of something instead of just being a spectator. I'm going to miss riding home on the Canada line after every shift. I'm going to miss seeing all these happy people from all over the world and all their friendly faces. I'm going to miss all this positive energy, and all the reasons to celebrate day after day. I'm going to miss having this sustained excitement throughout the two weeks. When all things go back to normal, it is going to feel very, very, nostalgic.

There's one more day to go. I hope that tomorrow will bring some magic to Canada's men hockey team.

Go Canada Go.

Life awaits..... only if I stop dreaming...

1:03 am. Early Monday morning. I laid there on my soft bed, half covered with my blanket.

Eyes wide open.

My mind has no intention of sleeping. Not even an ounce of fatigue. I even started sweating a little. It's too hot tonight.

I've been having nights like this. Completely, utterly, wakeful when it's supposingly bedtime. I've got to work tomorrow. I've tried to make an effort to wake up earlier. But my mind wouldn't listen. Like a wild animal, it does what it feels like. I am powerless to make myself fall asleep if my mind doesn't care to.

1:15 am. This is pointless.

Maybe it's because I haven't really stopped thinking about things.

Last week I told myself to count my blessings, not my regrets. I did quite well for a few days. But like a dreaded shadow, thoughts of self-doubts always creep back into my head. I still need a direction in life to feel alive. I still need new goals. I still need to feel that I'm thriving for something higher. That childish ambition. Those misguided dreams.

Those hidden demons, not so hidden at this day and age. I seemed consumed by them these days.

But maybe it's my obsessions with these senseless dreams that's preventing me from living my life today.

I guess I had a brief awakening (how odd as I was actually trying to sleep). For a second there I envisioned that my "dream" did come true, that I pictured myself somewhere else, doing whatever-it-is I thought I was supposed to be doing, but maybe at a cost of being elsewhere, in a different surrounding, away from my family, my friends, my niche.

I felt that picture quite lonely for a moment.

Success, when there is nobody to share it with, may be just as bitter.

I once questioned whether I should have gone over to Hong Kong for medical school, like a few of my friends did. I always wondered if I would have enjoyed reliving a second life there. Maybe I would have felt more at home in my surroundings. Maybe I would have felt less uncertain about my identity. Maybe I might have even met my special someone there (since I am predominately attracted to Chinese girls anyway) and got married already. Maybe. So many maybes.

I also once questioned whether I should have stayed at UBC for medical school instead of going to Toronto. Maybe I would have been less misguided about my careers as I went through school together with my family. Maybe I would have enjoyed my time a little better and stuck with a few of my original career goals. Maybe I would have also met somebody here, since I appeared to like Vancouverites more, and got married already. Maybe. So many maybes.

Regardless of what, I never felt that going to Toronto was a mistake. But it did highlight a good fundamental decision-making concept - the opportunity cost of chasing one dream. I went to Toronto because I thought it was the better school, and because I wanted to move to a bigger city. The opportunity cost was whatever that I would have missed by not staying here in Vancouver or going to Hong Kong.

Then I start to realize that I have almost everything that I would want right here at home in Vancouver today. I love living in this city. I have my family and close friends here with me. This is where I envision living and working. This is where I feel I can feed my other interests. Leaving here might turn out to be a bigger cost than I am willing to pay.

Plus here is still probably where I will have the greatest likelihood of finding someone to love.

The opportunity cost of chasing perhaps misguided dreams may be more costly than settling my aspirations and reframing my ambitions into something more concrete, but hopefully equally satisfying.

Somebody once said, "don't take yourself too seriously, because other people don't".

I might be the only one on this earth who is looking down upon myself.

It's just an awakening (can't believe I keep saying this word at what is now 1:36am).

But maybe I should start thinking about how to restart my life again.

After all, I am 31, and the clock's ticking.

Life awaits me to get my act together.

Love, goals, and ambition.

I think one thing I need in life is a sense of direction. I don't have to get there yet, but every time I develop an idea for an ambitious goal, I feel alive and driven to make the best of each day. It's what I live for.

When I see a goal, or when I feel ambitious, I feel that I am a promising human being again. Even if I'm not there yet, or even if the road is hard, I still feel strong, because if I have a goal, I'm not afraid of the fight.

When I am lost without a goal, or if I'm not sure which is the right goal (such as right now), I find myself very listless. I feel I am not progressing, while the world is still turning, and I stay stuck.

A man cannot be without goals. And I am cursed that I feel nothing when I cannot find my ambition.

But why is it so difficulty to get unstuck?

Perhaps that is because I think too much. Not with my head, but with my heart.

I am a creative soul. I like being expressive. I like to exercise my innate abilities. I like the feeling that I'm a natural at something and that I'm doing something I'm good at.

The strange thing is, I'm in a field of work that does not quite offer much creativity. The technical side of things run my day-to-day life. And even though they advertise that there's "art" involved, it is not the type of "art" that one would naturally subscribe to.

I guess part of me feels that I am not able to take a part of me to work with me. That is, I don't feel that I am playing to my strengths at work. I can do a good job, but little of it is "me". It's just my knowledge doing the talking, most of the time.

Yes, much of what we do in life is mundane. Most of the higher ranked careers are structurally rigid. Like an analyst, it's knowledge first, instinct second. Are we really being ourselves at work? Or are we just trying to keep ourselves alive WHILE we work?

I guess the frustrating part is realizing that I can no longer happily pronounce that I love my job. Mind you I don't hate it, and I am blessed to be doing it. I might even go as far as to say that I quite like it.

But love, now that's a strong statement.

To love something, you have to feel that it is becoming an intricate part of you. You intergrade with what you love, and you feel alive when you are part of it. Love is addictive, love sucks you in and harnesses your energy, body and soul. Love keeps you awake at night thinking about it. Love makes you wake up each morning yearning to do more of it.

If it doesn't do that, it doesn't fulfill the criteria for love.

Whether it be relationships, an object of desire, or a job.

Maybe I am being too romantic in my work. But I'm born in the year of the Sheep. They are naturally romantic beasts, the horoscope would say.

I just want to feel that I love what I do. Genuinely. Wholeheartedly. Happily.

Until then, I'm not sure where lies my happiness.