Living in a Loop

Living through the Pandemic – A Journal (Part 3)

By San San Lee

I’m in a loop.

Positive news, bad news, and never-ending uncertainty.

The last 12 months have felt like a bad reality show, thanks to the onset of Covid-19, denials of its existence and gravity, quarantine, reopening, restriction, and shut-down cycles, topped off with the drama of the 2020 election. And now, just as we thought the end was in sight after a new administration and two approved vaccines, the discovery of the new variants has placed us in “A Race Against Time.” Vaccine shortage is real, and as more contagious variants emerge, current vaccines may lose their effectiveness. Reaching herd immunity and returning to “normalcy” appears as elusive and complicated as ever.

I am struggling. I have difficulty focusing on things other than information regarding infections rates and vaccines. I am overwhelmed by the unknown as I fear more bad news. With the saga continuing, I am exhausted.

Yet, even as I feel fatigue, my left brain detects a pattern in life and reminds me, “I am tired and feeling lost, but this is only temporary. It will pass, as things have many times before.” Even though the progress is painfully slow and uneven, facts tell me, too, that things are improving.

In these difficult moments, to help with perspective, I often revisit a March 2020 conversation with my client, “Ana”. We were discussing the profound effects that the pandemic would have on our lives, personal and professional. A senior executive in a major hotel company, I have worked with Ana for years as outside legal counsel. As we saw the fast and furious meltdown of the hospitality industry, we told each other that there would be many bad days ahead, and though rare, a few good moments. To ready ourselves for the onslaught, we agreed that we need to seize and cherish those good moments as we claw back to recover from the pandemic.

This week, Ana and I caught up. Though there has been no work since the pandemic, we check in on each other every other month or so. After a year of business downturns, staff reductions, and quarantine, she, too, was tired. We shared our thoughts about the lack of control and our disappointments in those ignoring public health guidelines. I described my life working from home with my husband and she opened up about her social isolation as a single person, along with her concern for her elderly mother who she had to convince to get the vaccine. We spoke of the possibility of working together and seeing each other again in the near future. We laughed and were able to lift each other out of our pandemic weariness.

Often, when I needed it most, I’ve had the luck of having one of these conversations.  Over the last 12 months, instead of focusing exclusively on efficiency and the work at hand, I have taken a measure of the well-being of the other person in business meetings. “How are you?” has become a real question rather than just a polite and perfunctory one. This ritual changed with friends and family as well. Recently, I exchanged texts with my brother about our childhood scars. My brother, very private and closed, used to only reach out to provide obligatory updates about our parents. Now with the pandemic, we check in with each other regularly.   

Almost a year ago, when Ana and I spoke of the “good moments”, I didn’t know what that meant. Over time, I’ve come to realize that authentic, genuine interactions with others are the “good moments”. In these instances, we can drop the pretense that all is well and be honest. By sharing our thoughts, feelings, and experiences, we are showing each other that we are human. That we care for each other.

Though the pandemic has kept us physically apart, it has emotionally brought us closer.

At the end of my call with Ana, I mentioned our March 2020 discussion. Agreeing that the pandemic has allowed us to share our vulnerabilities, she then said, “Let’s do everything we can to stay this way, even when we go back to working on projects, again.”

“I would like that,” I responded.

At that moment, I realized that I was not really in a loop. Instead, she and I, and our enduring friendship, have been progressing along a path of change and evolution, through the pandemic. All along.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper


Acceptance, Anticipation, and Hope

Holidays in Spain – A Journal

By San San Lee

Thanksgiving of 2020 has come and gone.

Black Friday and Cyber Monday also had their turns. It’s December. We are in the midst of yet another holiday season and spike in COVID-19.

Unlike other years spent at home in LA, I am in Barcelona.

Growing up, my family owned a Chinese restaurant. We worked all year round. On Christmas and Thanksgiving, the streets were quiet, and throughout the day people would trickle in, one or two at a time. By early evening, the phone would be ringing off the hook for takeout orders. We would stay late to clean up, get home exhausted, shower, and finally go to bed.

Holiday or not, it was just another day.

In my mid 20’s and 30’s I worked in Asia for US firms. Since my employers followed the local calendar, I spent most major US holidays in the office. Though my colleagues and I took turns working on holidays, those of us who were single got a higher share of  holiday shifts. At first, we tried to replicate US traditions, but there was just no substitute for the festive aura. Recreating holiday dishes from local ingredients didn’t cut it. To add to the isolation, expensive international calls were the only means of instantaneous communication back then. Still, we found our own way to celebrate. We’d spend the day at work, leave a little early and have a nice meal out.

Spending time together took the edge off of the loneliness.

My first “real” Thanksgiving experience was in my early 20’s at a friend’s home, despite having lived in the US for well over a decade. It was the first time that I had turkey, stuffing, gravy, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, string bean casserole, pumpkin and pecan pies, in one sitting! Sumptuous, but exhausting – it took a lot of energy to eat, and even more to recover. For me, the best part of the meal has always been the sides and desserts, and I always saw the turkey as a symbol of American generosity and abundance.

Over time, like many immigrant families, we moved on from a small family-run business and achieved economic security. We, now, take holidays off.

Nowadays, I have my own holiday traditions. After several failures, I learned to cook a not-so-dry turkey and make my own sides. After Thanksgiving weekend, I would start to pick out holiday gifts, finish out the year at work, and make final plans to see family and friends one last time before the year ended. The weeks that follow Thanksgiving are frantic, filled with commitments, consumerism, and intensity, but I enjoy the quiet that follows Christmas and the slow ramp up to the new year.

Now, the world is more integrated – American traditions, as well as what they mean to us, are becoming widely known. Several of our neighbors and friends here sent us texts wishing us well on Thanksgiving. As a predominantly Catholic and family-oriented country, Spain also takes Christmas very seriously. Depending on the perspective, Spain has benefitted or suffered from US commercialism and consumerism. Social media, multi-national enterprises, and increased travel have brought about and contributed to the abundance of “Black Friday” and “Cyber Monday” ads and deals. In fact, exploring a nearby shopping mall that houses a Starbucks, McDonald’s, Burger King, Sephora, Zara, and H&M feels like wandering through Anywhere, USA.

With the existence of the familiar and apps for video chats, I remain connected to home. To its credit and to my gain, Barcelona does not lack in creature comforts or beauty.

Yet, I miss LA.   

This holiday season is particularly difficult. Being away during a pandemic has reintroduced the emotional wounds of my past. The loneliness and isolation from my childhood and the years abroad have follow me here. Even so, these holidays will need to be spent like other days during the COVID-19 era – staying put and distant from people. I am letting go of my traditions in exchange for something far more precious: a future, for myself and others.

For everyone.

This year, I am celebrating acceptance, anticipation, and hope. Acceptance: This holiday season is different from all others. Anticipation: There will be many more holidays to come. Hope: We will all be together in person, again, soon.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper


Coping with Uncertainty, an Unintended Gift

Starting My New Life – A Journal

By San San Lee

To weather the corona storm and sociopolitical ugliness in the US, we left LA for Barcelona at the end of August. We will be here until the spring of 2021, perhaps longer. I have always planned ahead and find uncertainty anxietyprovoking. We came anyway.

Thanks to the 2016 election, we acquired an apartment in Barcelona in 2017, just in case. While my husband thought I was over-reacting at first, he understood that, as a first-generation immigrant, I was scared. Still, I never thought we would have to exercise our contingency plan.

From the lockdown and even after the reopening in May, we self-isolated in LA. We kept things in a holding pattern to maintain some “normalcy.” The virus was spreading and the inconsistent governmental responses left much to be desired. While we managed to adjust, it was far from ideal. I felt unsafe given the resistance to masks and other measures, not to mention the harsh political rhetoric.

After serious consideration, we concluded that Spain’s situation would be less precarious, even if that meant taking on uncertainty for our future. Where things stood, we predicted that infections in the US would surge dramatically as the weather cooled. Although it would be challenging anywhere, Spain’s success in reducing its infections in the spring encouraged our decision. In a nerve-racking five-month process, I received my renewed passport and we set out for Barcelona.

It was a significant risk. Armed with hand sanitizers and wipes, it was the first time we had gone more than five miles from home since the lockdown. Our entire trip was unsettling and eerie – the lack of traffic and cars at the airport, the emptiness of the terminal, and the number of unoccupied seats on our flight. The experience was surreal, adding to the “unknown” waiting for us in Barcelona.

Much to our pleasant surprise, Barcelona was in the full swing of summertime activity. COVID-19 cases were rising, but people were enjoying themselves – they seemed happy. It was a contrast to LA, which felt subdued, fearful, angry, and sometimes, defiant. Right before we left LA, public universities and several school districts had just announced that in-person classes would not resume in the fall, not to mention the devastating fires just beginning amid record-breaking heat. Meanwhile, Barcelona seemed remarkably “normal,” aside from the prevalent use of masks and the obligatory squirt of hand sanitizers as we entered shops and restaurants. The virus was here, but everyone was learning to live with it.

Our first challenge was to figure out how to live safely. Starting a life in a new city has its own stresses, let alone in a time of pandemic. As a consequence of Barcelona’s walking-city-nature, the number of our errands increased, which meant more interactions with people.

We took incremental steps.

My husband and I discussed each new activity to plan for contingencies. We looked for restaurants with outside seating that appeared to be complying with safety protocols. We politely declined dinners and drinks with friends and neighbors, responding with invitations for masked and socially distanced walks. 

The pandemic put several things on hold in our Barcelona apartment, as it had in our lives.

We put certain safeguards in place – not being in the apartment when it’s being cleaned, keeping windows open during installations and deliveries, wearing masks when meeting people in and outside of our apartment. I even walked out of a bakery because the store clerk grabbed bread with her bare hand.

Initially, it was tough. I was in a new country where I didn’t speak the language, and I worried and stressed over each new encounter. Even so, I got used to the “struggle” of imperfect communication over time. My efforts were often rewarded with exceedingly helpful gestures – the worry and stress morphed into feelings of satisfaction and gratitude. Although we limited our social interactions, for the first time in six months, we were moving things forward instead of waiting for something to change before acting.

I was beginning to settle into my life here.

Six weeks after our arrival, Spain and the region of Catalonia imposed new restrictions. We knew it was coming – many had become too comfortable and were disregarding safety measures as they spent time with their family, friends, classmates, and co-workers. Not surprisingly, as comforts rose, cases surged.

Some of our newly reintroduced activities are in dormancy again. It is uncertain how long these measures will last. There is a feeling of déjà vu, but I am doing okay. Unlike the first lockdown in March, I’m not feeling the panic and the emotional tailspin. I am not obsessing on the “what,” “when,” and “why.” I don’t like uncertainty, but I realize it’s necessary.

The pandemic appears to have given me the unintended gift of “calm” in the midst of the unknown. Perhaps, with the ups and downs, I’ve developed a bit of a callous – keeping me in the “now” and less speculation on the “future.” Right now, I am in a beautiful and architectural city, and in my free time, taking online Spanish lessons, walking to parks and beaches, and more importantly, sharing gelato with my husband.

I just had my first birthday in Barcelona. I don’t know where I will be for my next one, but as with all things, time will pass, things will unfold, and life will go on.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper


Corona Yo-Yo or Moderation

Much like yo-yo dieting, many parts of the country are on a yo-yo of closures

By San San Lee

Several years ago, I lost 50 pounds. After being diagnosed with high blood pressure, I realized it was time to take action.

It was hard.

It took me 11 months and I went down three sizes in jeans. My blood pressure also went down, and I was off the medication. To reduce the weight, I had to give up many things: wine, desserts, ribs, cheese, French fries, and many others that I used to indulge. I exercised regularly and did yoga. I got there by complying with the “rules.” One set of rules for permitted items to eat (mostly, vegetable and lean meats), and another with off-limits foods (fries and ice cream, etc.). I abandoned the prior “no rules” of eating it all. Back then, I thought I’d stick with my new weight-loss strategy, and then, I could go back to my old ways. By the time I lost the weight, I was sick and tired of steamed broccoli and baked chicken!

After 11 months of sticking with the rules, I no longer wanted to go through it again. I had worked too hard and felt great. With less weight, things got a lot easier. The weight-loss rules no longer applied, but if I went back to my old ways, I knew the weight would be back, and I would need to lose the weight or risk going back on blood pressure medication. I didn’t want to be another victim of yo-yo dieting.

At the same time, I also wanted to reintroduce the “forbidden” items, but how much and how often? I was a bit apprehensive at first. I knew that I couldn’t go back to my old ways or stay in weight loss mode forever. I had to find a “happy medium,” which required discipline and vigilance. To do that, I struggled to reconcile between how I lived my life before the weight loss and how I had to live to maintain my health. Often, I had to say “no” to another glass of wine or a piece of chocolate. It would have been easy to default to my old way of “eat it all,” but I had to let it go. I had to accept that things were different. I needed to develop new habits and live my life accordingly. I knew my desire to “eat it all” would hold me back from making sustainable progress, so I struggled to find a balance.

That was almost nine years ago, and I’ve kept the weight off. Over time, through hard work and persistence, the self-monitoring has become mostly automatic. Yet, the struggle to find the balance to keep the weight off was more difficult than losing the weight.

As I live through the pandemic, I see a similar struggle. It was easier when the “rules” were clear, much like the weight loss rules. In March, the lockdown required us to stay at home, limit our contact with others, wash our hands, wear face coverings, and maintain social distancing. We reduced the infection rate and the curve flattened. We waited for the reopening, hoping that the lockdown would be short-lived and our lives would go back to “normal.”

While the lockdown slowed the spread of the virus, it did not disappear. We knew that. When the country began to reopen in May, most Americans were apprehensive about the possible rise in the infection rate. The uneasiness was well-founded. Infection rates in our city, county, state, and other states around the country are skyrocketing. I also was concerned about the reopening because it was unclear what it would look like or mean. Would we be able to go back to the “old normal” or would our activities be restricted? It turned out for many, reopening meant that we could abandon the “weight loss” rules and go back to our old ways of “eat it all,” or more appropriately, “do it all,” rather than seek a balance. We were not prepared to reintegrate activities slowly and modify our pre-pandemic behaviors to develop new habits to ward off the spread of the virus.

The “do it all” behaviors returned during the Memorial Day and Fourth of July weekends, along with the “normalcy” of summer. It was as though we gorged after a fast, without regard for the inevitable consequences. Now, shutdowns are recurring, and we are back on a “diet” to starve the virus once more – a consequence of our over-indulgence.

Much like yo-yo dieting, many parts of the country are on a yo-yo of closures, reopening, partial closures, reopening, as the infection rates go up and down. According to various infectious disease experts, the yo-yo will likely continue unless we take personal responsibility and modify our behaviors to stop the spread of the virus.

So, where do we go from here?

The virus is very much with us and will likely be with us in the near term. Unfortunately, life is not a Hollywood movie – vaccines and cures do not appear overnight. Until a viable medical option is available, we must learn and adapt our behaviors to minimize the spread as we go about our day. We need to stop the yo-yo.

We must learn to live more cautiously, with vigilance and consideration for the health of others as well as ourselves. Much like a post weight-loss plan, we need to exercise moderation – engage in some pre-pandemic activities, but perhaps not as often and not in the same way, and in many instances, with caution and safeguards. Simply put, we need to follow the rules, even if it means giving up the past and sacrificing our desires. Many already do this, but given the rising infection rates, it’s clear that we need to do better.

Yes, it’s a bummer, and it takes work – but it’s a much better alternative than being on the Corona yo-yo.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper


Reopening – A Good Time for Paranoia

‘Life must go on. Unfortunately, we are left to figure out how to navigate the reopening on our own’

By San San Lee

Birds are chirping, the sun is out, and the morning glories are flowering. Cool mornings and warm days – overcast skies as we move from spring to summer. A typical transition of seasons in LA. Every year, this is when my allergies act up, my eyes water, and I sneeze. “Pollution,” attributes my doctor. But, it’s different this year. My symptoms aren’t as bad, probably because the air quality is better. One of the unintended consequences of the stay-at-home order.

The stay-at-home order is easing, too. For some, this is a delightful development. For others, it comes with unease and concern for possible exposure and increased Covid-19 infections. Based on recent polls, a majority of Americans are at least somewhat (if not, very concerned) about the rise of infections as restrictions ease. I, too, am concerned.

While my workload is much less than the pre-pandemic level, I’ve been able to work from home. With the stay-at-home order and its restrictions, and more importantly, the dedication of essential workers, I’ve had the luxury to “hide out” from the virus in the safety of my home. That will change as things open. The reopening does not mean the virus is gone or that it has lost its contagious might. Life may become more precarious. Without the restrictions, we are no longer as protected and isolated from the virus. Reopening would mean more exposure to others, and therefore, the virus.

It appears though that some don’t see things this way. The behavior of the Memorial Day weekend at beaches, Eaton Canyon and other weekend and vacation spots are examples of that. It’s disturbing – the crowding, lack of social distancing, lack of masks, and frankly, just a lack of awareness that we are in the middle of a pandemic. It’s as though “reopening” equals the virus is gone and we’re free to party and celebrate! Health authorities are warning that precautions must be taken as infections continue to rise in many parts of the country. Yet, the lack of a consistent, clear and coherent message from governmental officials result in confusion, misinterpretations, arguments, haphazard behaviors, at a time when the need for precautions is paramount.

Life must go on. Unfortunately, we are left to figure out how to navigate the reopening on our own.

Back in March, right before the stay-at-home orders started to come down, I was texting back and forth with Tim, a friend in Barcelona. Spain’s shutdown, much stricter than ours, had just been imposed. We were discussing the likelihood that the US was next. He advised, “Don’t wait until the government tells you what to do. You know what you have to do.” Taking his advice, I started to wear face coverings whenever I went out. I had been reading about countries that were successfully warding off the spread. One thing stood out, people in those countries, whether required or not, were wearing face coverings in public. Although CDC only recommended face coverings for those with symptoms at that time, I decided to wear a mask anyway. I didn’t have any symptoms, but shielding my nose, mouth and portions of my face from the “droplets” of others had to be better than nothing. It made sense to me as an added precautionary measure to minimize exposure, especially when it was clear that our lives were to be disrupted dramatically. What’s a little more inconvenience for my safety and that of others?

Late to the game, CDC did not recommend face coverings until two weeks later, when it informed us that a significant number of transmissions occurs from asymptomatic individuals.

Tim’s advice is still very much appropriate in the context of reopening. Rather than relying on the government, I decided to assess the amount of risk I’m willing to accept for my own safety and those around me. My actions should not be driven or dictated by others. Instead, I have to set the rules and at times, make a case-by-case determination for myself.

I am comforted by the fact that I am not alone in this. Based on my discussions with others (via, email, text, zoom and phone calls), they are trying to figure it out, too. How and when do we begin to incorporate more social contact? If so, under what circumstances? Who can we trust? How stringent have they followed social-distancing and what is the level of their hygiene? How serious are they about the virus? What businesses are still on the “to go back to” list? Are they following the guidelines? Under what conditions would we go back to eating at a restaurant? If so, which ones do we trust to have our health as their number one priority?

In these discussions, I’m finding that we are also assessing each other’s quarantine habits to determine if the other person is “safe.” It’s like early stages of dating, getting the awkward questions and “must haves” out of the way to see if there will be a second date. Or, in the current context, is it safe to see each other in person?

Recently, my friend Nancy signed off her email with the hope that we can get together soon in person and added “six feet apart and with masks.” Another friend told me that he is choosing not to see his sister because she has been socializing with her friends in person during the quarantine. A friend with a dog was elated to hear that I hike with a mask because we can hike together with his dog while we both wear masks.

Assessing the risks can be difficult, messy, tedious, and complicated. In a recent Zoom call, an old friend reminded me of the discussions we used to have in the 1990s during the HIV epidemic, when we were both single and dating – not only are you having sex with a person but with every person he/she has had sex with. He then, asked “It’s really the same, isn’t it?” Not only are you having contact with a person, but every person he/she encounters. Ultimately, it becomes an exercise in calculated risk. How badly do you want to do something and how much risk are you willing to take? Bottomline, what is the value of your safety?

It’s sobering, but it’s necessary – at least for me. I passed on some dates back then, and I know that I will have to pass on seeing some people now – even if that means I can’t go to the places and events I that want to. At least, for the time being.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper


I Can’t Go Home Anymore

“I question whether I will ever be able to go back to the way we were”

By San San Lee

“I want things to be normal again and just go back to the way they were.” That’s how I felt as the coronavirus spread and cases of death rose, followed by stay at home orders, business closures, job losses and changes to our lives. As things have begun to reopen and resumption of “normal” life begins, I’ve been reflecting. I keep on coming back to the same question – what does “normal” mean? What does “going back” mean, especially given what has happened?

As a lawyer specializing in hotel transactions, by early February, following the footsteps of China and parts of Europe, my clients were dealing with cancellations, and my workload started to diminish until it came to a screeching halt. Everyone hoped that the effects of the coronavirus would be contained and temporary, confined to a small region and high-risk population. In retrospect, that was not the case. Watching the industry, I saw it coming and knew it would be bad. Nevertheless, the pace and speed at which things changed were daunting and excruciating as I watched familiar things in my life disappear.

Many hoped that the return to the “normal” would be like a light switch. The stay at home orders would be lifted, and miraculously, things go back to the way they were. The pandemic would be a distant memory. Yet, as local and state governments discuss the plans of re-opening, they are conditioned with restrictions, not only to ensure public safety, but also to safeguard the health of employees and consumers. The road to normalcy will be a gradual grind, as we get accustomed to doing “old normal” things in “new normal” ways.

Yet, as I reflect on return to “normalcy,” I question whether I will ever be able to go back to the way we were.

Adjusting to the existence of a pandemic, we’ve all had to dramatically adjust our day-to-day lives. I am no exception. I lived in my own bubble. I had my work, my clients, my friends, my favorite coffee places, my personal training sessions, hikes with my husband on the weekends, and our favorite restaurants. For me, it was a way of life that took years to build and a lot of effort to secure.And, my life was “just so” – we had a routine and that gave us certainty and security – we both felt we had found “home.”

Three months ago, it would have never occurred to us that our routine would be disrupted in any significant way, let alone be in jeopardy. After all, we lived through the 2008 and 2009 financial crisis and the Great Recession that followed – and, our life remained intact. During the initial days of the pandemic, as I obsessively watched the news, I kept on hearing pundits comparing the two. Deep down, I knew it was different. Back then, it was the economy, but not our health. This time, we are threatened by a virus for which we have very little information, and it is eating away at everything we hold dear, including lives.

There were lots of bad days initially, but the worst was accepting that the life I had built (really, my bubble) was so fragile. I was no longer able to do those familiar things. The things we enjoyed and that defined our lives just evaporated. I felt lost and became unsure of who I was and what I stood for – I had let those external things define who I was and be a barometer of my certainty and security. Having those things made me feel more whole. To top it off, the uncertainty and the unknown surrounding the virus, and therefore, our health, made things unbearable. I felt suspended in the loss of my life as I knew it and the unknown of the future.

But even during the worst days, I had to survive. I had to wash my hands, find face coverings, engage in social distancing, stand in grocery lines, cook meals, find toilet paper and cleaning solutions, go out for walks, clean my house, and water my plants – not to mention deal with client issues that came up. With the “stay at home” order, my priorities changed, and I was doing things I had not done in years. I could no longer rely on anyone else to do it for me. I was just trying to keep us fed, safe, and healthy, but it was exhausting. With the lurking virus and the fear of catching it, every outing was stressful, and I was obsessively watching cable news to obtain as much information about the virus as I could. While difficult at first, these stressful and exhausting things became less so as I got used to doing them.

I was changing – not just what I did from day-to-day, but internally. Over days and weeks, I got used to the uncertainty caused by the pandemic and the future. I still craved certainty, but I could no longer rely on the pre-pandemic certainty. It was no longer there. I knew also that as quickly as those things were taken away – looking to regain them would be a fool’s errand. I had to look for certainty elsewhere. But, where? 

Through it all, one thing is clear: certainty is elusive because most things are outside of our control. 

I realized that the only certainty I have is within me. That is all I can control. When I feel the need for certainty now, I find comfort in knowing that I can adjust by shifting my priorities. I don’t need the things I once thought I did, and doing things for myself is okay. I also discovered that having to improvise is a way of life. Most of all, I found certainty in my marriage, as my husband and I became great collaborators during this pandemic. We agreed that we would only take risks that we could both accept.

So, from where I am now, I can’t imagine going back to the way we were – living in my bubble and relying on it for certainty and security. Now that I know how fragile our “home” was, we just can’t go back and be as we were. I don’t know how things will turn out or what will happen, but I know that it’s not in the cards for me to look for certainty and security in a house of cards.

click here for the Original Article in The South Pasadenan Newspaper