1 . This month I finally lived my dream: I visited behind the scenes at Disneyland, “the happiest place on Earth.” Watching thousands of smiling employees rushing, around the park, completely absorbed in their work, I suddenly understood the magic behind the park and why joy had escaped me for so long.

When I was younger, I tried to pursue happiness directly by creating as many happy moments as I could. However, no matter how many happy moments I had, they could not protect me from sadness. The sadness would unexpectedly arise when it shouldn’t when I was with friends or family, when I had achieved success, and when I tried to create art. It was the persistence (持续) of this sadness that finally made me realize the truth: the Happy/Sad model was wrong.

I updated my mental model to the Pleasure/Pain model. I saw that what I had called happiness was simply emotional pleasure, which was anything that confirmed the way I saw myself and the world. As I removed emotionally and physically painful moments from my life, I established a mental image of myself as a “happy person.” However, I was stuck in a one-dimensional emotional world.

Wandering down the 19th street and waving to the 100th friendly costumed character, I finally found the words that completed my third model — Joy/Fear, one that gives real depth to life. Disneyland, with its immersive (沉浸式的) world and perfect performances, goes beyond creating happiness and lessening pain. It is carefully getting rid of fear. It removes the possibility of anything going wrong, of disappointing us. And behind the scenes, Disneyland works tirelessly to ensure that everything always run the way it should.

Life is not Disneyland, however. Try as we might, we can’t control the world around us or completely erase our fearful moments. But we can control how we approach life and how we understand our fears. And in the absence of that fear, joy arises.

6 . Once there was a little girl who had many misfortunes in life and was struggling with problems. One day she felt so upset that she couldn’t help ________ to her father why her life was so ________.

Sensing her ________, her father, a chef, took her to their ________. He asked her to just ________ till he finished everything. He filled three small pots with water and placed each on a burner. Once the water began to ________, he placed a potato, an egg, and some ground coffee beans in each pot. Curious, though, she kept ________ as her father instructed her to do so.

About twenty minutes later, he turned off the ________. The chef turned towards his daughter and said, “See, the potato went in strong and hard but in boiling water, it became soft and weak. The egg was ________, but now the egg became hard. ________, the ground coffee beans were unique. After being ________ the boiling water, they changed the water and created something new.”

Seeing the little girl was still confused, he then ________, “The potato, the egg and coffee beans had each faced the same ________-the boiling water. However, each reacted ________. When hardships come your way, how do you respond? Are you a potato, an egg, or a coffee bean?” Hearing these words, the girl made her choice inside-she would be the ________, which could not only change the whole situation but also change in its own way. After all, life is 10% what happens to you and 90%how you react to it.

7 . “Absolutely no!” I thought while looking up at a mountain pass to the cliff (悬崖). I climbed halfway and looked over. It was extremely steep (陡峭的), which would _________ broken bones… or worse. I could feel my _________ increasing, hands getting sweaty and breath getting shallower.

“No, I’m not taking my kids over this! How did I end up here?” I _________ curiously.

I have _________. You might not guess it but it’s _________. Nature is full of things that _________ me: bears, snakes, lightning storms, etc.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that fear is so powerful that it prepares our bodies to react anytime. I’ve also found that we _________ to fear what we don’t know. However, it’s during times like this that I’ve _________ the importance of showing myself that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

I looked over the pass with _________ knees, and then back at my children. I took a deep __________ and smiled at my kids, “I’m going first and then help you.” The __________ took about five minutes for me to complete and then my kids __________. “That was fun!” they yelled, and surprisingly I had to agree.

Despite my fears, __________ our beautiful world with my kids is very important. Why? There are so many __________! One is teaching my children that it’s OK to feel scared sometimes, but not to let fear __________ their steps from getting outside and trying new things.

8 . In casual conversations, there is a seemingly simple question I can never answer without hesitating — “Where are you from?”

I could say I am from Thailand, where I was born. Or I am from Mexico, where I spent the majority of my childhood. Or I am from the US, whose language is rooted into my life. In my mind, none of these answers are satisfying enough. After all, to be from somewhere carries expectations of understanding “your” culture and “your” home.

I feel envious whenever my friends say they’re “going home” for school breaks. As a student who frequently moves, I have never seen my living space as “home”, but “shelter”, another location to stay in before I unavoidably move again.

So, does this mean I do not have, and will never have, a home? I resign myself to living with this sense of sadness, until very recently.

In my dorm, inside my drawer is a specially designed white bath towel that I have not used since I brought it with me from my parents’ house. One day, I took it out, but stopped after smelling the soft, sweet laundry detergent (洗衣粉), the one my parents used back in Thailand. I felt my eyes water as that random smell brought my mixed emotions to the surface: sadness and nostalgia, a strong feeling of missing home. I still avoid using that towel until now because I don’t want to replace the smell of nostalgia with my newly-bought detergent.

Sadly, even with this new discovery, I will still struggle when answering where I am from, and I will always feel a sense of loss in not having a physical home to “go back to”. Yet, in random moments, when a smell catches me off guard (让我猝不及防) with the memories it brings, I like to believe that the things I feel then are things people feel when they are home. And if these moments can make me smile, even with a sense of loss, what better home can I ask for?

10 . I’m a mother of three and a psychologist. Recently, I come to understand what makes childhood valuable in its own right.

One day, when I went to get my 7-year-old son from soccer ________, the kid ________ me with a downcast face. The coach had ________ him for not focusing on his soccer drills. He walked out of the school with his head and shoulders ________ down. He seemed wrapped in ________. But just before he reached the car door, he suddenly stopped, crouching (蹲伏) down to ________ something on the sidewalk. His ________ went down lower and lower, and then, with complete joy he called out, “Mum. Come here. This is the ________ bug (虫子) I’ve ever seen. It has, like a million ________. It’s amazing.” He looked up at me, his features overflowing with energy and ________. “Can’t we ________ here for just a minute? I want to find out what he does with all those legs.”

The traditional view of such a moment is that it is ________, or a waste of valuable time. Yet at that moment it suddenly dawned on me that what sets children apart from adults is not their ignorance (无知) but their ________ for joy. Children’s ability to become deeply ________ in something and get great pleasure is what adults spend the rest of their lives ________.