Summer Musings Vol. 1

The Art of Flying Back into the Shoe Box

It has been seven months since I packed up my life and moved back to the motherland. They say time flies when you’re having fun, which perfectly explains why some days here feel like a beautifully slow, agonizingly detailed playback of a movie I didn’t exactly buy a ticket for. Ah, city life. Hong Kong is the concrete jungle where I grew up, got my education, fell in love, and—let’s be real—lost my virginity. In my teens and twenties, I harboured a dramatic, youthful hatred for this crowded harbor. So, I took a massive leap of faith, crossed the ocean, and landed in San Francisco. I ended up staying in America for 16 years. Looking back, that chapter was probably a few chapters too long. I knew exactly why I packed my bags to come back to HK, but now that I’m here, I find myself staring at the ceiling wondering: Wait, what was the reason again?Yet, for all my existential whining, you can’t beat the sheer, unapologetic convenience of this place. Efficiency is Hong Kong’s love language. I can walk into a bank and walk out fifteen minutes later. Doing taxes here is practically effortless. Best of all, I can pamper my avatar without declaring bankruptcy. Massages, acupuncture, yoga classes, sound healing, and full medical check-ups—I can do it all, and it doesn’t cost an arm, a leg, or a kidney.

Meeting the Kiki Who Never Left Lately

I’ve been walking around the old neighborhood where I grew up. It’s a bizarre mental exercise. I keep looking for the spirit of a Kiki who never left. What would she be doing right now? Did she follow her heart? Did she find the love of her life and pop out a few kids? Did she finally heal from her childhood trauma, or is she still working herself to the bone at her little nail shop, ignoring her body’s desperate cries for a break? Did she eventually step into her own power and say a firm "No" when her intuition screamed at her? It’s fun—and a little terrifying—to stay curious and swim in the sea of what-ifs.I vividly remember walking home one scorching summer evening when I was about twelve. Two boys decided to audition for the role of lifetime villains by bullying me, laughing hysterically at my "ugly" shirt. It was a Sailor Moon T-shirt paired with shorts. Back then, I wore oversized shirts for a very specific, awkward reason: I was growing boobs, but I was too terrified to ask my mom to buy me a bra, and she hadn’t noticed the sudden biological upgrade yet. I was a skinny kid, weighing less than 90 pounds. To this day, the embarrassment of that moment sticks to me. If I ran into those two boys today? Oh, I would absolutely have the guts to fire back. I suppose this is what healing looks like. The universe will keep throwing you into the exact same awkward, painful situations until you finally find the bravery to say, "Enough is enough." You grow, you evolve, and eventually, you learn to move with grace, love, and a little bit of sass. I like to think that’s a beautiful lesson straight from Guan Yin. 

Beautiful purple and yellow flowers I found on a walk

From Bug-Hater to Plant Whisperer Growing up

I absolutely loathed summer. I hated the humidity, hated the bugs, and treated mosquitoes like personal enemies. But time changes us. Now, I find myself pausing to appreciate the trees and flowers on my commute. The hibiscus bushes near my house have grown so tall, blooming like crazy. The flowers are literally bigger than my palm! Seeing them instantly lifts my mood. Hibiscus carries a beautiful, high vibration, much like roses. It opens up the root and heart chakras, and incidentally, makes a fantastic cooling tonic for a sweltering summer day. Speaking of herbs—why don’t we have Western, vintage-style herbal shops in Hong Kong? I’m imagining a dreamy space with a traditional Chinese medicine wooden cabinet, but when you open the front door, you’re hit with the scent of wild lavender and sage instead of bitter roots. There would be an eccentric old lady wearing a vibrant headscarf and a chunky, oversized silver necklace, gently ordering you to drink chamomile or nettle tea for your ailments.I miss that. I miss those specific, earthy fragments of my life in the US. Sixteen years abroad completely rewired how I view the world. My friend Anna recently asked me, "Why don’t you like the place you grew up? Do you think the US changed you?"Oh, absolutely. Without that American journey, I’d still be the old Kiki—viewing the world in rigid black-and-white through a very narrow lens.

Seeking Community in a Shoe Box (the "little" big city aka H.K.)

Maybe I’m just being a bit too sentimental because Mercury is in retrograde, but I terribly miss the community I had in Pittsburgh. I didn’t have a massive circle of friends, but they were the kind of people who, the moment I called and said "I'm making dinner," would instantly flock to my house. Hong Kong is a different beast. Everyone is perpetually exhausted, endlessly busy, and our apartments are the size of shoe boxes. You can barely fit three people in a living room without someone getting an elbow to the ribs. Because space and time are such luxury commodities here, people naturally have their guards up. If you reach out, their first instinct is often defensive: What do you want from me? It takes a long time for people to warm up and trust you.

Getting back to painting :)

Manifesting a Dreamy Community

In my ideal world, I wouldn’t live in a high-rise. I would live in a little clay dome house with a garden filled with roses, lavender, sage, mugwort, edible flowers, Chinese greens, and a few chaotic chickens. My close friends and family would live just a stone's throw away. We would share the beautiful burden of life. If you can’t pick up your kids from school, I’ve got them. If I’m craving fresh pasta, my neighbor John is on it. When I’m sick, Mary knocks on my door with chicken soup infused with fresh thyme and oregano. If a couple needs a date night, I’m happily reading bedtime stories to their little ones. And if a neighborhood grandma is ailing, I’d gladly sit with her, wiping her back and massaging her delicate, wrinkled hands.At the end of the day, we don't need more efficiency. We need community. No matter how advanced AI becomes, and no matter how many chores it automates for our convenience, it will never replace the profound necessity of human touch—the simple compassion radiating from a warm human body. Don’t you agree? What does your ideal living situation look like? And do you think we can build a world where the next generation lives a little more connected than us? 

Anyway, that is all for Vol. 1 of my summer musings! I hope you are all soaking up the bright sun and the vivid, healing colors of nature. Until next time, I’ll be gathering more stories of living and traveling around Asia for Volume 2. Have the most beautiful summer, and live it to the absolute fullest! And remember that you're loved and protected!

Beach on Lamma island

Much love

K x