Departure

I am experiencing both overwhelming sleep deprivation and disbelief. It is nearly 3:00am and I will not be going to bed until at least noon in an attempt to adjust to the impending 12 hour time difference. I am sitting on a bench in the Halifax Stanfield airport (YHZ) contemplating the assemblage of words that will summarize the exact thoughts that litter my consciousness—the paragraphs of cognition which will crumble as soon as they are created. I have had an image in my head since I first discovered that I would be teaching English in South Korea. The portrait that exists within my mind is an image of Halifax trailing off into the distance as my plane takes off from the runway. The scene is not unfamiliar, I have seen the same before, on previous trips, and I can conjure an accurate replica. There are two bridges, a harbour, wetlands, and more lakes than I care to count. Yes, I have witnessed the image many times, but this time it is different because I know that there is a chance—a profound chance—that I will not be returning. The soonest I might glimpse Halifax again is September 2015, and that is a long shot.

            My decision to move to Korea is, in essence, also a decision to take a hiatus from life. My primary intention for leaving must remain hidden, for without a few secrets my soul would be stripped naked. For 21 years I have grown up in HRM, and for the majority of the time I spent there I wished to escape—I have clawed and verbally abused Halifax for all its flaws. Now I am beguiled, bewitched, bewildered, and burdened. I think that I might miss Halifax after all. I will miss the people the most--the connections and friendships that will certainly be altered. But I can’t regret my decision to leave, not at all. I am not happy here. I feel trapped; the world is so vast that to be bottlenecked into such a small space for the entirety of my existence would, in my humble opinion, be obtuse. I am not sure how long I am going to live overseas, or where I will go afterwards, but I know my objective. I don’t need to figure out the meaning of life, which is a question that has been enrapturing me more often than I care to admit (I am still buried beneath a pile of literature in hope of making peace with the possibility that all meaning is subjective). I don’t even need to know what I want to do with my life—although I am sure that I will have to take a chance at becoming a novelist at some point in time, such is my dream. No, my primary ambition for leaving is to stop hating myself. I am ensnared by my flaws, and cannot see the good in myself beyond what I feel I need to improve. “I should be more social. I should rid myself of my obsessive compulsive tendencies. I should work harder. I should focus more. I should not be so introverted. I should stop being so foolish. I should stop living a life of delusion. I should have higher self esteem. I should stop being so enamoured.” Everybody has their own insecurities and their own ways of remedying themselves, distancing myself from “life” is my coping mechanism.  

        I want to love myself. Love—what is it? I thought I had a rather concise definition, but the working model that I understood for most of my adolescent life has deteriorated into a more mature description. My current belief, is that love is an utmost desire for somebody to be happy without any return to oneself. It is a difficult to separate emotional attachment from selfishness. I have come to learn that being enamoured alone is not enough to constitute as love, although it may be entangled with love depending on the circumstance. And dissecting personal intention from pure altruism is intricate at best. And although this is only my opinion, I feel that being able to walk away from somebody whilst knowing that you will never stop wising happiness upon them is as suitable an example of love. So too is wishing happiness to somebody, even when you remove romantic intent, or accepting somebody for all their flaws and perfections.    

            I am excited to let go of my consciousness and focus on surviving a new world. And by stop searching for meaning in my life I hope that I will in fact find it unknowingly. To whatever Korea brings, for better or worse. I know I need the mental break.