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These questions and more…

At some point, I’m going to look back and ask myself why I didn’t live a quiet life at least for a little while. At some point I’m going to ask, Why didn’t I get away and just sit down and think about everything that’s happened in the last 2 years. Why wasn’t I quiet for a little bit? Why didn’t I figure out how to give myself time just to think and to write, and nothing more? The questions now is: How can I make this possible within the next couple of years? The answer is there, and I will come to it.


Under the Full Moon

full-moonThe city covered by the full moon outside, inside I have dreams, lying on my heated floor, listening to the voice of a favorite female singer, well-known in American independent music circles. When you have dreams this way, on a heated floor, it’s a lot like lying on the beach, except the sun burns from beneath you, not above. I can’t really sleep on the floors, though sometimes I can, so maybe I’ve made some progress, but something about lying on them now, taking in these songs, is rather pleasant, even peaceful. And it shares another similarity to lying on the beach: It makes you satisfyingly drowsy. Then the dreams come, like I’m not even in South Korea anymore. The dreams are a nostalgic mix of memory and imagination, or perhaps of past and future. Of life in the United States and of life in South Korea. How does one reconcile such a thing? In the dreams, I’m nowhere; I have no place, not a sense of home or of belonging. Each country in the world is only a place to visit, not a place to call my own. I’m country-hopping, slowly, the journey only at its beginning. Yet I’m inescapably connected now to two countries – first, the United States, by birth, from growing up there, from the way I look (though many have said I look European, which I always take as a compliment) and second, South Korea, by relocation, from teaching here, perhaps even from my feeble attempts to be more Korean. Still, when I come out of the dream, I have only one home. But more and more – if I can accurately articulate this – I’m finding this to be a problem. I’ve left all of my deepest connections. That is the sacrifice you make when you leave your home country, the country in which your family resides, among other things and people. And it’s not even that you’ve left them; it’s that they’ve become intangible. You begin to wonder what the solution might be, still coming up more or less with a blank response. For now, I’m going to go back to the dreams, the moon still bright and clear. And I’m going to let imagination take over a bit more. What else is it there for, anyway?