What If?

"When we came together I realized the whole thing was just a dream. A weird, wakeful kind of dream that's hard to explain.” He hesitated, and reformed his discourse “And it became obvious that time isn't the same for you as it is for me." He lowered his gaze.
   “Keep going,” she said. She smiled, not a real smile, but it was still encouraging.
   “I realized that nothing I did while I was away really mattered, I was just filling time.”
   "How'd you figure all that out?"
   "A lot of thinking, probably too much thinking. But I'm glad I thought it—all of it."

Remember all the stupid shit you did to remedy yourself, and fill the crevasses of your soul—the cracks in your walls of isolation? Remember brooding upon the straggling scars tracing your being? Bound together with medical tape and sutures, you sought to heal yourself. You were your own doctor—some kind of metaphysical surgeon superseding all limitations. You were laying in a pile of your own pieces. You're still not whole. You're still jaded. You're still bitter. You're still abstract. You're still gathering words together... to make sense of it.   

   What if all your mad thoughts, weren't so mad after all? Perhaps all you are, and all you imagine yourself to be, is more than a figment of your imagination. You are, after all, a being of your own cognition. Furthermore, the wasted days—the moments of your darkest hour—may not have been as circumventive as you thought, but instead became the mold of your unique bundle of flesh that still, without doubt, breathes and lives—though maybe not in the traditional sense. 

   I see through closed doors—I know nothing is what it seems! Imagine, I dare you, think of a place anywhere in the world—a deserted corner that is uniquely yours—a happy place, or the place you go to grieve. Now imagine you were dropped at a random coordinate around the globe and were told to find your way back to “your place.” Given ample time and resources you could do it—such is the power of the human brain—an ability to navigate from memory.

The world is just a series of closed doors, and rooms. At any given time we can only see one room, but there is an infinite number of rooms coexisting concurrently. If you traversed to another room, and left your room behind, how would you be sure that your room ever existed? No thought I've ever thought has been sensical. 

There's no water, but I'm drowning

Everything is O-K, but I'm flailing

I'm happy, sorta, but something is missing

Standing Still

If my feet stop moving—if I hesitate—I will start thinking again, and that is terrible for my health. If gears start turning—tiny gizmos in my brain space—then I may forget to appreciate the potential glee a moment could bring. The days are rigid—if they aren't rigid there’s too much of that awful thing—the aforementioned poison, the toxin, I wish to avoid. So the days are scheduled, with only ten minutes for thinking—ten minutes for not being alive, ten minutes for reminiscing, brooding, and being otherwise dreary, and unsociable. And after the allotted time has passed again, the clocks restart—the people resume to walk—and life is, more or less, the same as it was before the thinking—aside from fifteen or twenty new epiphanies,

I’m searching for stepping stones, to abridge each day. I would like to walk across the lake, but I

Sink…

Sink…

Sink…

Because between you an me—this is a secret so we shan't whisper this to anyone—sometimes I think when I shouldn’t. Sometimes I think things that I wish would not be thought. But those thoughts sink with me, until I become afloat. But when I do dredge myself free of those thoughts I’m me again. But sometimes they resurface along the shore, as I walk back, and I start to consider the possibility that they weren't bad thoughts after all. When I think they are no longer thought—that they are gone for good—I go back to the beach and pull them from the sand. And they are as they always were, not great but good enough, considering they came from MY head. 

I’m searching for stepping stones, to create a path oblique from any prior—a path that moves forward, and doesn't tend to lead back towards home again. I’m searching for continuity and the seams to untattered the parts of me that still need to be sewn. 

Halloween

This week was pretty hectic. I lurched by back doing 1RM testing on Saturday and I was in a lot of pain for a couple of days, but it gave me a great idea for a short story! My back is still a little sore but I have been up to 85% and seem to be fine so I am going to be starting a four week squat block 5 times a week with one recovery day.

   Time has been a commodity. Every wakeful moment seems to be busy--but I guess being busy is a choice. I've sent off two short stories to literary magazines and am on the process of finishing off a couple others. I've been reading a lot this week, short fiction, trying to become the best writer possible. I have been imposing 10 hour work days upon myself on Saturday's and Sunday's, with 1 day off every two weeks. I'm exhausted. But it's a good exhausted. 

   The school I am working in is undergoing renovations, so on Saturday I helped with moving furniture from the first floor to the fifth. It was good. It was really good. There's nothing like manual labour to keep your mind clear. 

This is what my schedule looks like on a normal weekday:

7:45am wake

7:50am shower/make breakfast

8:05am Studying Korean

9:05am Get ready for work

9:30am Start Work

12:30pm lunch/study korean

1:30 Work

7:00pm Get off work

7:30-9:30pm Write/edit/magazine submissions

9:30 Gym

11:30-12:30 More writing

12:30am- Reading fiction/non fiction

I'm tired. But good tired. 

Keep Moving Forward

My tie draped across the desk as I knelt beside one of the students, trying the explain why foot becomes feet while man becomes men in plural. "Just is," was the best I could manage. "Write it down. She pulled the tie I was wearing, nearly choking me in the process and snatched the red pen out of my hand. She drew a heart on the back of my hand with the word 사랑, which means "Love".

 
"My god," I thought. "What am I doing here?" It all seems so strange some days, and I feel like a lost puppy even still. If I've learned anything in my time in Korea thus far is no matter how different the culture, or how backwards a place may seem, the people are still the same. We are afflicted with the insipid traits--jealousy, greed, and languish. But we also share a common goal of loving, and to be loved. There is good and evil in all of us. I enjoy watching the innocence of the kindergartners--they have n't been touched by the heartache that life can bring, and it sorrows me to think their purity can't last. I would like to meet them again in 20 years, to see what became of them. 

   This week has been rather nondescript--but I came to the realization that I have been sleeping far too much. I went from 9 hours a night, to 8 hours, and now to 7 hours in order to fit two more hours of work into the day. I have been trying to become more serious as a writer, and an in the process of polishing off five short stories which I hope to start sending to literary magazines in November. I'm prepared for rejection--lots and lots of rejection--in fact, if I got published on my first try it would feel too easy. 

   Between query letters, working on new material, editing, reediting, networking, reading, studying I feel that working 8-10 hours a day is imperative to really "Break into the market." It's been tough to find three hours a day to write/edit/pursue magazine listing. Maybe someday I'll be able to make this dream come a reality. Everyone wants to be famous, but nobody wants to put in the work. For now I'm satisfied where I am, working the old 9:30am-7:00pm and being the most unlikely kinder
garten teacher there ever was.

Where You Need to Be

Today, as I watched the sun set over northern Seoul I was stricken by a feeling that was foreign to me. It crept upon me, and at first I didn't know what it was, but I soon realized that it was the feeling of finding what I was looking for. It was the first rays of happiness, shining through a heavy fog. I arrived in Seoul about a month and a half ago. I arrived broken, in a haze, and as I staggered off the plane I had no sense of identity. I was afraid of who I may become. But, to contrast, this evening as I watched two egrets skim across the Han I realized that I had become the person I had wanted to become.

   Change is scary. It's hard to let go of the past, because it's safe. It's easy to grow complacent, and it is comforting to tell yourself that you can always do something about it tomorrow. I was comfortable. I needed to grow as a person. I didn't understand what it meant to be happy. I didn't understand what it meant to love. I didn't understand how to regain a sense of who I was. But I found it. Along the banks of the Han river I heard the flash of a camera shutter, twice.  A common occurrence when you're a foreigner living in Seoul (Everybody seems to want to take your picture). I glanced over, and two young women were standing farther up the bank, sneaking peripheral glances at me. They were alarmed by my gaze, and they looked away shyly. I laughed to myself, and stared into the sunset. I didn't mind--I never mind when I catch the eye of a pretty girl, as rare as that me be. I heard the camera twice more, as they stole another image. I wish I could have asked them to see the photo, but beyond getting directions, and occasionally telling somebody that I want to sleep with them instead of saying I want to sleep (자는 자고 십어요) my Korean is still rather limited. On that bank, with a pen behind my ear, a notebook in my hand, and headphones dangling from my neck I was excited to be me. I was excited to be somebody who had traveled 10,000 miles for the sole reason of finding purpose--somebody who was still a little lovestruck, and lost--a stereotypical aspiring writer working as an English teacher and finishing off a first novel. I had to be careful, I knew my happiness would dissipate if I let it.

   Life in Korea has been good so far. I just made my first payment into my North American bank account, and for once my pockets aren't empty. By no means am I rich, but I can afford the occasional Pomegranate... and maybe a few avocados. I recently finished writing two short stories that I think have the potential to be published--and that's the plan. I bought a copy of "Writer's Market" today. And once I have five stories that are polished I'm going to start contacting publishers. "Being a writer" was always a dream that was way off on the horizon, but I feel like I'm on the precipice of breaking through. I'm hoping to finish off my manuscript in December, and then go after the white whale, which is to have a novel in stores. I'm ready for months, if not years of rejection. Bring it on.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

This week has been filled with exploration and misadventure. I had Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off for Thanksgiving and I made the most of my time for sure. On Monday I visited Olympic park which was very beautiful. I also walked along the Han river and enjoyed the scenery there. The next day I went to Mallipo beach which was really nice. I had a bit of a cazy adventure (which would take too long to properly detail but it invovled a cosway, a centipede nest and a lighthouse). Korea really is a beautiful country. I look forward to visited more National parks while I'm here. I heard that there are hotsprings in one of the parks in the winter which sounds amazing after a day of hiking. 

   Wednesday was my birthday (22...) so now I'm starting to feel old. I feel like an adult for the first time but it might be becuase I wear a tie to work every day. A couple of my coworkers bought me dinner Wednesday night which I really appreciated. Then the next day at work I was suprised with a cake and a myraid of "happy birthday's that I wasn't expecting, but again, I really appreciated the gesture. 

   So... I haven't been able to talk since last Thursday morning. I was a little bit sick over the long weekend and then after I started to talk on Thursday it slowly started to dissappear. On Friday I had no voice at all! As hard as it is to disipline kindergarteners normally it is even harder when you can raise your voice over a whisper. After resting my voice since Friday (it's Sunday night now) I can finally talk again, although my voice is much raspier than normal. I still don't know what will happen once I start talking agin. 

   Korea has met all my expectations so far but my biggest complaint is I have been getting eaten alive by mosquitoes! I have about 30 mosquito bites on each arm. They like bite at night, so if you ever come to korea either sleep with the window closed or bring OFF.

   A big part of the reason I came to Korea was to find out who I am as a person. And it has been my expecation all along that I won't return to Canada until I come up with an ansnwer to that question. I think that I am on the right path, I am slowly starting to develop a sense of identity. But still, it has only been three weeks. My mind has not yet been dissevered from the past. 

Long Weekend

This weekend is Korean Thanksgiving.. Which means I have five days off. Work five days, five day break, two more days off. I don't want to get too used to it, because I think it will be a while before I get a break like this. So after my first full week of teaching by myself I am getting into the swing of things. I still haven't had to makeany lesson plans myself yet, and I won't probably the week after next. By the end of the month everything should become routine. The classes have been good so far. I really like the kinders, but I still need to learn how to discipline them better. I think I'm going to try to rely on positive reinforcement more so than negative punishment from now on... Which means I'll have to buy candy... Lots and lots of candy.  Some of the elementary classes have been a little difficult so far. It's hard to get kids to pay attention when you don't exactly now what is going on yourself. So next week, when I actually have a feel for the classes it should go better.

    After two days of the long weekend I have seen a lot of Seoul! Yesterday I went to the Cheonggyecheon Stream which was really nice. It is a small waterway running through Northern Seoul with park space on either side. It was a very peaceful walk. I also went to Seoul Tower. It was only 9000Won so I decided to go to the top of the tower. The view from the top was spectacular. I'm glad I did it. 

   Today I went to Bukhanstan National Park and climbed the highest peak, which was about 3000 feet. The trail was a lot harder than I was expecting because of the steepness of the path. I underestimated how hard it would be and at the beginning of the hike I was pretty much running up the hill... Big mistake! It took about 2 hours to get to the top, with picture breaks, and about the same length of time to get back down but I took a different route. The view from the top was breath taking, words couldn't even describe it. The other hikers were incredibly friendly too; they offered to take pictures of me and gave me food! 

   I still have a lot planned for the next three days. After going to the track tomorrow morning I am going to go to Olympic park and walk along the Han river. Depending on how expensive intercity buses are I may take one to another national park on Tuesday. I am excited! After this extended holiday I'm going to try to get back to training. My workouts have been sporadic right now and I can't do any olympic lifting until October because my gym is closed. And there are no other  nearby  OL gyms available. I'm going to take out the gates tomorrow morning and see where my 30m time is at. Hopefully I'll do some bounding



too.