"What we do now echoes in eternity." -- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Alas, my journey in Korea is at an end. I leave tomorrow for a 2 week adventure in Australia and New Zealand, and I am really sad to be going. I said the last of the goodbyes to friends today, and it admittedly hurts a lot. I'm really lucky to have had these last few days in Seoul with friends I've made at all different points in my life. Jim and Ben Welp and Bill Richeson, dear friends who are all related in various ways to my friend Laura Welp, came from all over the world for a visit. Sam and Emily Maclean, two really awesome world travelers who I met in Prague are working in Korea now, and we went out for a night and caught up. A good handful of my coworkers were here too. It was the most fitting sendoff I could have possibly imagined, and I enjoyed everyone around me so much.
I finally admitted to myself tonight that it's the end. I took the night off from going out and stayed in to process my thoughts, and I went for a nice walk in Hongdae to get my last taste of Korea. It's been great, but it's over, and an incredible next chapter is ahead.
With that next chapter, The Jeju Chronicles end, and a new blog is born. I started this past year in Jeju by reading Marcus Aurelius's Meditations. It's full of great wisdom and advice, but the quote above really resonated with me. What we do now in this life, in all of these singular little moments, leaves an impression on the world. What you do with your life isn't a waste, and it doesn't go with you to your grave. The people you affect in your life, and the people you meet and change as they change you, all resonate into the cosmos of infinity. Each action has a consequence leading to a subsequent action and consequence. My life since college has lead me to believe so firmly that things happen exactly as they are supposed to, and in the only way that they ever could. I'm not saying that our lives are predetermined for us, just that things tend to have some crazy way of working out, and that our actions truly define us. What we do leads us to who we are, and while that might sound like a bunch of mindless rambling, it's become somewhat of a creed (I miss you, Lucas Dines) for me. I control my own future. I met Emily and Sam in Prague last year, and it really felt full circle when I saw them here in Korea. I felt some weird interconnectedness and purpose to the crazy night of dancing we had. I hadn't seen Jim or Ben in 2 years or so, and here we were in Korea exploring and having a great time. It felt like things had to go exactly as they have. It was too perfect. This whole year and its ending make me feel like I'm going in the right direction with my life.
Thus, I chose this title for my blog. I suppose it's also very fitting that I'm headed to Rome and Marcus Aurelius was a Roman! It's a bit more versatile than The Jeju Chronicles, so it can last to Rome and beyond. Maybe I'll be lucky enough for my words to truly make an impression at some point for someone somewhere, and they shall echo into eternity. One can only hope. As always, thanks for reading, and I'll try to work in an update about Australia and New Zealand when I'm home before I leave to road trip with Mikey. Have a great June, everybody!
-Ryan
Monday, June 15, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Goodbye, Jeju.
Dear Jeju,
The time has come for me to depart from you, oh sweet, sunny island. It's been a year, and it's been quite lovely overall. You've given me peace, stability, friendship, and experience. You've given me natural beauty unlike anywhere else in the world. You've given me great food and pretty subpar drink. You've given me trials, and you've given me triumphs.
Undoubtedly, some of the fine people you've brought into my life will fade into obscurity, and some will remain friends for life. "Home is where the heart is," and I've found a home in this place. Whether it was my newfound hobby of smoking meat with my brother Lucas Dines, finding new music from Allison Ice on a long drive, paddle boarding with the Glynns, or getting shabu shabu with the whole Monday crew, these people and several others have wiggled into my heart. I have you to thank for that, Jeju.
I climbed the country's tallest mountains with you. I traveled all over Asia. I wished I was home. You saw me at my best, and you saw me at my broken. I do wish you would change your laws so that driving any vehicle on the roads in an intoxicated state is illegal, but I'll let it slide. You gave me my first taste of life after college, and you pointed me closer to my end goals. I'm grateful for that.
To be honest, I didn't have expectations when I first encountered you, Jeju. I knew too little about you to really have an informed opinion. Not having expectations allowed me to be ready for anything and to open myself to all you had to offer, and that makes me want to explore more places that I know little about. I am very grateful for that.
You've given me hope, and you've given me doubts. You've given me hope that I can survive and thrive in new places, and I think I want to keep encountering new places for a while. You've given me doubts that I can settle down any time soon, and that scares me. If I had a dime for every time I wondered what my life would be like in five years, I would have a lot of dimes. If I knew where I would be in five years, I wouldn't be working hard to get there.
You've given me Lazybox, Cafe Mayb, the roadside pork/jiggae place, American Sushi, shabu shabu, Sangbangsan, Sagye, Emart, GS25/CU, the fish and chips place by the beach, U-do, the Bonte Museum, and countless other places where I will forever have precious memories.
You gave me a wakeup call in the form of a motorcycle accident. Never have I been so acutely aware that I am mortal. It was terrible, but in the end, I learned a lot. You taught me that I shouldn't be reckless, but that doesn't mean I can't live life to its fullest potential.
You taught me to not take my education for granted. You taught me that not everyone I meet will be likeminded with me. You taught me that sometimes, it's better to keep my mouth shut. You reminded me what I want out of my life and what kind of man I want to be. You taught me that kids can suck so incredibly badly, but they can be pretty great, too. You taught me the value of fostering deep connections with folks, no matter where you are.
Hell, Jeju. I could go on for days. You've been a great gift to me. You've become a friend, and you've been a teacher unlike any other thus far in my life. Most of all, you taught me that somehow, some way, things have a weird way of working out. Life can look bleak, but it's not over until it's over. I'm more aware than ever of the need for perseverance, humility, and empathy.
Finally, you taught me what it means to truly miss family and friends. I'm one of the luckiest people I know, and I have so many relationships in my life that I would be lost without. It was an added bonus that you brought me more of those relationships to move forward from here with.
I'll send you postcards from Italy. I'll have to come back to see baby Dines and how incredible the GEC is in a few years. Thanks for everything. I'll miss you.
Goodbye, Jeju.
Love,
Ryan
The time has come for me to depart from you, oh sweet, sunny island. It's been a year, and it's been quite lovely overall. You've given me peace, stability, friendship, and experience. You've given me natural beauty unlike anywhere else in the world. You've given me great food and pretty subpar drink. You've given me trials, and you've given me triumphs.
Undoubtedly, some of the fine people you've brought into my life will fade into obscurity, and some will remain friends for life. "Home is where the heart is," and I've found a home in this place. Whether it was my newfound hobby of smoking meat with my brother Lucas Dines, finding new music from Allison Ice on a long drive, paddle boarding with the Glynns, or getting shabu shabu with the whole Monday crew, these people and several others have wiggled into my heart. I have you to thank for that, Jeju.
I climbed the country's tallest mountains with you. I traveled all over Asia. I wished I was home. You saw me at my best, and you saw me at my broken. I do wish you would change your laws so that driving any vehicle on the roads in an intoxicated state is illegal, but I'll let it slide. You gave me my first taste of life after college, and you pointed me closer to my end goals. I'm grateful for that.
To be honest, I didn't have expectations when I first encountered you, Jeju. I knew too little about you to really have an informed opinion. Not having expectations allowed me to be ready for anything and to open myself to all you had to offer, and that makes me want to explore more places that I know little about. I am very grateful for that.
You've given me hope, and you've given me doubts. You've given me hope that I can survive and thrive in new places, and I think I want to keep encountering new places for a while. You've given me doubts that I can settle down any time soon, and that scares me. If I had a dime for every time I wondered what my life would be like in five years, I would have a lot of dimes. If I knew where I would be in five years, I wouldn't be working hard to get there.
You've given me Lazybox, Cafe Mayb, the roadside pork/jiggae place, American Sushi, shabu shabu, Sangbangsan, Sagye, Emart, GS25/CU, the fish and chips place by the beach, U-do, the Bonte Museum, and countless other places where I will forever have precious memories.
You gave me a wakeup call in the form of a motorcycle accident. Never have I been so acutely aware that I am mortal. It was terrible, but in the end, I learned a lot. You taught me that I shouldn't be reckless, but that doesn't mean I can't live life to its fullest potential.
You taught me to not take my education for granted. You taught me that not everyone I meet will be likeminded with me. You taught me that sometimes, it's better to keep my mouth shut. You reminded me what I want out of my life and what kind of man I want to be. You taught me that kids can suck so incredibly badly, but they can be pretty great, too. You taught me the value of fostering deep connections with folks, no matter where you are.
Hell, Jeju. I could go on for days. You've been a great gift to me. You've become a friend, and you've been a teacher unlike any other thus far in my life. Most of all, you taught me that somehow, some way, things have a weird way of working out. Life can look bleak, but it's not over until it's over. I'm more aware than ever of the need for perseverance, humility, and empathy.
Finally, you taught me what it means to truly miss family and friends. I'm one of the luckiest people I know, and I have so many relationships in my life that I would be lost without. It was an added bonus that you brought me more of those relationships to move forward from here with.
I'll send you postcards from Italy. I'll have to come back to see baby Dines and how incredible the GEC is in a few years. Thanks for everything. I'll miss you.
Goodbye, Jeju.
Love,
Ryan
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Wrapping Up The Year
With a such a large transition approaching, I've been uncharacteristically calm and collected, going through my daily business and preparing to leave Korea. I tend to think for extended periods of time before falling asleep, and last night was no exception. Sometimes I have great thoughts, and I really process my day or my relationships or my inner workings. Last night, I didn't have any fun thoughts. Instead, the second I laid down in my bed, the full weight of the next few months hit me like a brick.
I leave Jeju in exactly one week. It's almost a year to the day that I found out I got the job here. I interviewed in my friend Jake's bed room from his house in the suburbs of Chicago, and a few days later, I found out I was going to a place I had never even heard of. A month and a half later, I was here.
And, now, I'm here still, with a little over a week left, and only a few days left with the students. Where has the year gone? It decided to kick it into warp speed at some point, and now, it's come, and it's gone. It's been a year of self-discovery and self-reflection with some minor personal changes. I feel like my sense of self and my goals are more clear, but that all-in-all, I'm the same guy with more knowledge of this country and this part of the world.
As I laid in bed last night, I realized I'm about to move from Asia to Europe with little time in between. I had a mini-panic attack that involved a lot of irregular breathing and tossing around. I've shipped home a ton of stuff and should probably start packing. I have like 3 weeks at home this summer and will be on the go constantly. Anyone who knows me knows that I prefer it this way, but that doesn't make the thought of it any less scary. I need to be ready to move to Rome by the first week of August. That is soon.
And, as well as things have come together, I admit that I'm nervous. It's a natural reaction to be nervous for the unknown, I suppose, but that doesn't make me feel any less silly about it. I'm going back to Rome! I'm going into a job in what I want to be my career field! Why must my stupid brain be so worrisome? Alas, I know everything will go well with the busy summer and the job next year.
Today, I proctored the SAT and felt horrible flashbacks of the old standardized testing days. Naturally, that made me worried for eventually taking the GRE. I'll have to start making moves on that front before I know it, too. Hopefully, I'll be able to complete a higher ed degree abroad. Sorry, Ma, I might not be close for a bit longer.
Lately, I've had my brother Brad Zandstra on my mind. He is going through a tough time right now, and you always want to be there when your friends are struggling. It's harder knowing that even if I was there, there isn't a damn thing I could do. If there's one thing I'll never understand, it's why bad things happen to the best of people. Cancer really is stupid and senseless. If you're of the type to keep people in your thoughts or prayers, I would, and I know he would, appreciate your well wishes.
That's all my brain's got for now. Have a good weekend, folks.
I leave Jeju in exactly one week. It's almost a year to the day that I found out I got the job here. I interviewed in my friend Jake's bed room from his house in the suburbs of Chicago, and a few days later, I found out I was going to a place I had never even heard of. A month and a half later, I was here.
And, now, I'm here still, with a little over a week left, and only a few days left with the students. Where has the year gone? It decided to kick it into warp speed at some point, and now, it's come, and it's gone. It's been a year of self-discovery and self-reflection with some minor personal changes. I feel like my sense of self and my goals are more clear, but that all-in-all, I'm the same guy with more knowledge of this country and this part of the world.
As I laid in bed last night, I realized I'm about to move from Asia to Europe with little time in between. I had a mini-panic attack that involved a lot of irregular breathing and tossing around. I've shipped home a ton of stuff and should probably start packing. I have like 3 weeks at home this summer and will be on the go constantly. Anyone who knows me knows that I prefer it this way, but that doesn't make the thought of it any less scary. I need to be ready to move to Rome by the first week of August. That is soon.
And, as well as things have come together, I admit that I'm nervous. It's a natural reaction to be nervous for the unknown, I suppose, but that doesn't make me feel any less silly about it. I'm going back to Rome! I'm going into a job in what I want to be my career field! Why must my stupid brain be so worrisome? Alas, I know everything will go well with the busy summer and the job next year.
Today, I proctored the SAT and felt horrible flashbacks of the old standardized testing days. Naturally, that made me worried for eventually taking the GRE. I'll have to start making moves on that front before I know it, too. Hopefully, I'll be able to complete a higher ed degree abroad. Sorry, Ma, I might not be close for a bit longer.
Lately, I've had my brother Brad Zandstra on my mind. He is going through a tough time right now, and you always want to be there when your friends are struggling. It's harder knowing that even if I was there, there isn't a damn thing I could do. If there's one thing I'll never understand, it's why bad things happen to the best of people. Cancer really is stupid and senseless. If you're of the type to keep people in your thoughts or prayers, I would, and I know he would, appreciate your well wishes.
That's all my brain's got for now. Have a good weekend, folks.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
"This is how I want to remember Jeju."
"This is how I want to remember Jeju," my good friend Melissa said out at a tiny island overlooking the coast. We had just paddle boarded for 35 minutes or so to get out to a tiny island off the coast of Jeju, one that I have been looking at for the whole year here. Some of you have also probably seen it in Instagrams and Facebook photos I have posted:
It's that little guy off in the distance, and I've been dreaming of going out to it since I first sat at Lazybox Cafe and saw it all solitary and pretty out there. We decided to paddle board out there, and it was better than I could have imagined.
It's that little guy off in the distance, and I've been dreaming of going out to it since I first sat at Lazybox Cafe and saw it all solitary and pretty out there. We decided to paddle board out there, and it was better than I could have imagined.
As I sat on one of those hills on the island, Melissa said, "This is how I want to remember Jeju," and I couldn't agree more.
In a lot of ways, it's been a challenging year. The job itself has been challenging, and sometimes the boys make me want to rip my hair out. I've had to learn to separate the job from the rest of my life, which is often hard to do when the only thing separating your bed from the nearest student is a paper thin wall. I wrote a post earlier in the year about how learning to ride the motorcycle really mirrored my mood and taught me to live in the present; well, crashing it had the same effect. It really brought my mood down and made me long for home. I have had a fear of missing out on the experiences of my college friends to a certain extent all year, and I have days where that's really difficult. I think on a daily basis, I do a good job of shutting all of the negative feelings away, which in itself can be a bit taxing. I've come to accept that life will present you challenges no matter where you are, but when you leave the familiar behind, you have to find a way to lean back on the old and familiar without letting it consume you. You have to lean back on the old and find new people to lean on in your present. I've definitely done that here.
But alas, yesterday was what Jeju is to me. Lifelong friendships, incredible natural beauty that I will most likely not encounter again on a daily basis, finally being out of that miserable cast, feeling all young and free out in the ocean (#blessed), and just knowing that this year was exactly what I wanted and needed for the next step of my life. I feel more prepared for the job in Rome than I would have if I had gone last year. I feel ready for the next step. I feel sad to leave here. I feel fully content, and the butterflies I feel for the future are really pretty butterflies instead of nagging ones.
I don't know that it's in my DNA to stay in one place for a really long time. I think someday it will be. I think when my sister gets married and I have some nieces/nephews running around, I may want to be closer to home. But then again, I could always be the cool uncle who brings back presents from all over the world. Lots of time to consider these things, I suppose. As for now, I've got two and a half weeks left on my little island, and I want to spend them remembering and continuing to realize why I love it here. Thanks for reading.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Honesty, Accountability, and Gratitude
I had a great conversation with my buddy Lucas the other day about how meaningful it is to be honest and to admit mistakes. I'm big on forgiveness, and I don't think there's anything that isn't forgivable. However, I think to be truly able to accept forgiveness, you have to admit wrongdoing, and often, that's easier said than done. Nothing makes me lose respect for someone quicker than if they can never be wrong. Being wrong is part of life, and after working with middle schoolers, I can confidently say that it's a very middle school attitude to think you have to make excuses and forward on blame to others. You're going to mess up, and yeah, that's a little scary, but own up to it when you do. In friendships, in the workplace, and in how we deal with our students here, the ability to take responsibility is imperative.
Honesty and accountability go hand in hand. If I want you to be accountable, I have to be honest with you both about my expectations and if I feel you've done wrong. When people tend to not want to take responsibility, they more often than not lie to get around admitting something. You've got to have one to have the other. I think sometimes it becomes your way of life. I have students here who dedicate whole days to breaking the rules then lying to get out of it. I understand not wanting to get in trouble, but I think if you aren't taught accountability, it's something that sticks with you and will haunt you later in life. I immediately gain more respect for someone if they do something wrong then admit it right away if they're called them on it. Then I have kids here caught redhanded in lies that will try to tell me that I didn't see what was right in front of my face. That's a hard cycle to break once you've started it, and I've met people already in my young professional career in their 20s who just can't help but lie, and it's sad to me.
I tell you all this because it's been really on my brain lately. Whether it's having trouble trusting things with my job, having trouble giving back trust to friends who have broken it, or just being weary to trust people in general, it seems like it's been a theme for the last few weeks. I can't stand maliciously lying and cheating, and it's often for no good reason. If someone tells me a small, insignificant lie, it leads me to wonder what else they might be lying to me about, and that scares me. It scares me because I don't want to hold anything back from people. I don't want to alter the way I am because I'm worried that if I show myself to people they're going to let me down. I don't even remember being double-crossed to the point where I should be so worried about peoples' intentions, yet I find myself paranoid that I'll be swindled or bamboozled. I want to let people be innocent until proven guilty, but sometimes my brain pushes to not give people the benefit of the doubt. People make mistakes, and if I said I was always truthful 100% of the time, everyone knows I would be lying (see what I did there?). I think for some people though, it's a habit.
Alas, for how downer that sounds, life is really good. I have so much to be grateful for I get the cast off in two weeks, and the foot is feeling better. I had to cancel my trip to Nepal, but I think it's for the better. I hear they're kicking out foreign aid workers, and with a bad foot, I would probably just be in the way. Guess I'll just have to go visit my friend Kelly who is living there next year! Lucas, his friend (and now my friend) Matt, and I are threw a giant BBQ this weekend at a really scenic beach and cooked a half hog. We built the pit out of cinder blocks and steel, and assuming we break even, anything left over is going to benefit my medical and legal debts from the accident, which is really incredible of everyone. It's things like this that remind me that people are inherently good. I know there's some psychopaths out there, but the majority of the human race that I encounter means well, and that's pretty awesome. Something stupid happened to me, but out of a broken foot came an awesome BBQ and a great bonding night with my friends here on Jeju.
I think in the worst of situations, there's always some good waiting around the corner. I don't think it's easy to realize the things in your life that you need to be grateful for, and you have to actively be searching for them. It's easy to have bad things happen and wallow in your misery. That's the lazy way, and I've been guilty more than once of feeling sorry for myself over the last few weeks. It's ridiculous. I have it so good, and I have so much to be grateful for. I've learned and grown from the accident, and again, it's provided for some good times, to the point of actually finding the accident kind of funny now. I got hit by a drunken tractor driver in South Korea. I have a feeling I'll be telling that story for quite a while. The best medicine for misfortune that's out of your control is laughing. Life goes on, and I think as I get older, I'm learning how to try to be more positive in general.
Anyway, that's the brain-vomit I've had over the last few days. Only a few more weeks left on Jeju, and then on to the next adventure. As always, thanks for reading.
Honesty and accountability go hand in hand. If I want you to be accountable, I have to be honest with you both about my expectations and if I feel you've done wrong. When people tend to not want to take responsibility, they more often than not lie to get around admitting something. You've got to have one to have the other. I think sometimes it becomes your way of life. I have students here who dedicate whole days to breaking the rules then lying to get out of it. I understand not wanting to get in trouble, but I think if you aren't taught accountability, it's something that sticks with you and will haunt you later in life. I immediately gain more respect for someone if they do something wrong then admit it right away if they're called them on it. Then I have kids here caught redhanded in lies that will try to tell me that I didn't see what was right in front of my face. That's a hard cycle to break once you've started it, and I've met people already in my young professional career in their 20s who just can't help but lie, and it's sad to me.
I tell you all this because it's been really on my brain lately. Whether it's having trouble trusting things with my job, having trouble giving back trust to friends who have broken it, or just being weary to trust people in general, it seems like it's been a theme for the last few weeks. I can't stand maliciously lying and cheating, and it's often for no good reason. If someone tells me a small, insignificant lie, it leads me to wonder what else they might be lying to me about, and that scares me. It scares me because I don't want to hold anything back from people. I don't want to alter the way I am because I'm worried that if I show myself to people they're going to let me down. I don't even remember being double-crossed to the point where I should be so worried about peoples' intentions, yet I find myself paranoid that I'll be swindled or bamboozled. I want to let people be innocent until proven guilty, but sometimes my brain pushes to not give people the benefit of the doubt. People make mistakes, and if I said I was always truthful 100% of the time, everyone knows I would be lying (see what I did there?). I think for some people though, it's a habit.
Alas, for how downer that sounds, life is really good. I have so much to be grateful for I get the cast off in two weeks, and the foot is feeling better. I had to cancel my trip to Nepal, but I think it's for the better. I hear they're kicking out foreign aid workers, and with a bad foot, I would probably just be in the way. Guess I'll just have to go visit my friend Kelly who is living there next year! Lucas, his friend (and now my friend) Matt, and I are threw a giant BBQ this weekend at a really scenic beach and cooked a half hog. We built the pit out of cinder blocks and steel, and assuming we break even, anything left over is going to benefit my medical and legal debts from the accident, which is really incredible of everyone. It's things like this that remind me that people are inherently good. I know there's some psychopaths out there, but the majority of the human race that I encounter means well, and that's pretty awesome. Something stupid happened to me, but out of a broken foot came an awesome BBQ and a great bonding night with my friends here on Jeju.
I think in the worst of situations, there's always some good waiting around the corner. I don't think it's easy to realize the things in your life that you need to be grateful for, and you have to actively be searching for them. It's easy to have bad things happen and wallow in your misery. That's the lazy way, and I've been guilty more than once of feeling sorry for myself over the last few weeks. It's ridiculous. I have it so good, and I have so much to be grateful for. I've learned and grown from the accident, and again, it's provided for some good times, to the point of actually finding the accident kind of funny now. I got hit by a drunken tractor driver in South Korea. I have a feeling I'll be telling that story for quite a while. The best medicine for misfortune that's out of your control is laughing. Life goes on, and I think as I get older, I'm learning how to try to be more positive in general.
Anyway, that's the brain-vomit I've had over the last few days. Only a few more weeks left on Jeju, and then on to the next adventure. As always, thanks for reading.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Depth
There's a lot of word-vomit I could launch out into the interwebs right now, but I'm going to try to do this in an organized fashion, and I think sharing it will help me make sense of it. So, here goes.
I'm talking about the depth of friendships, and how far into yourself you let others see, as well as how far you yourself explore. I've had a few transitions in my life as far as both of these aspects. In grade school and high school, I had the same friends almost all throughout. The guys I hung around are good guys, but we don't keep in touch all that much anymore. I think they see me for who I was in middle school. I don't think they really know me, and I don't really claim to know them anymore. Friendships fizzle. I get that. I think they fizzled because of lack of depth, and whenever I hang out with them as a group when I'm home, I feel like a total outsider. Late in high school, I met a bunch of people on a retreat, and craving the depth I didn't have in other friendships, I gravitated towards them. It had nothing to do with religion; it was just that the retreat setting provided for an initial segue into knowing them better. They shared their experiences on the retreat even though I barely knew them, and I wanted to get to know them better.
I left for college, and I was distraught about not having any truly deep friendships established. I didn't know who I would confide in, who would just sit and wonder about the world with me, or who I would be a source of confidence for. That changed quickly, and in college I formed some of the deepest friendships I have to this day. I tell you that to tell you the mindset I came in to Korea with. I was scared again about not having any deep friendships, but I was confident I would make them happen.
The last few weeks have been trying. Dealing with the physical, legal, and emotional toll of this motorcycle accident has been harder than expected. The earthquake in Nepal has left me with a ticket to Nepal in May and a ruined city. Unsure of how I'll proceed, I'm hoping to go and make a difference, so long as my foot is healed in time. I planned on getting LASIK surgery next week, and I had it all booked, but the costs of the accident have made that infeasible. I have had some missteps with my friends here that have left me down on myself. It just seems like I'm in a bit of a rut right now. I started to examine my friendships here and their depth, and I started to feel like I have only formed a few deep friendships. It started to eat away at me because I wanted to be able to just jump into deeper conversations, but I realized I wasn't feeling comfortable doing so with the people I saw daily. I didn't want to be a burden with my problems, and I didn't want to seem argumentative by talking about social/political ideas on my mind. I was too scared of ruffling feathers and alienating the only support I have during a tough time.
I think I'm over the hump on that. I had to sit down and tell myself that not every conversation has to be mind-altering and thought-provoking (as important as those conversations are), but sometimes just talking with someone about anything at all can be a source of comfort. As I've been more receptive to those littler conversations (read as not holing myself up in my room and being moody), the deeper conversations have happened. I've made some lifelong friends here, and it's comforting to know that.
My future for next year is settled, and that's great. My future beyond that isn't, and it's scary, which is something I shouldn't even be considering. I can barely figure out what I'm doing for lunch, and my brain won't stop trying to think about this big conceptual "future." Grad school, relationships, where I'll settle down, future career/jobs, how I'll continue to travel, what's most important to me and what isn't, and so on. In some way, it didn't feel like much of a transition from college to Korea. I was so thrust into the unknown and forced to adapt that I didn't have time to think about anything but the present, and I'm glad. Now that I'm settled and have a plan for the immediate future, my mind is playing tricks on me and thinking ahead too far.
I don't think I'll ever move home (sorry, Mom). I've been trying to figure out my aversion to going back to where I started, and I think it's just that I feel like I've grown apart from the people that made home what it was. I miss the family and several friends, but for some reason my brain wants to move past St. Louis as a permanent residence. I feel kind of guilty about it. It's been nagging me lately. Plenty of time to stew over it, I suppose!
My friend Cayla, who I studied abroad with in Rome, was here this week visiting from her semester abroad in Vietnam. It was so great to see a familiar face. It was odd to have a connection to home here. All this time, my two worlds have been so separate. I wouldn't expect anyone at home to know much about here, and I don't know much about what goes on at home besides what I see in the news. Just having someone to show around and to understand life here was really great. It's been a good week on that front.
That's about all I have for now. Have a good weekend.
I'm talking about the depth of friendships, and how far into yourself you let others see, as well as how far you yourself explore. I've had a few transitions in my life as far as both of these aspects. In grade school and high school, I had the same friends almost all throughout. The guys I hung around are good guys, but we don't keep in touch all that much anymore. I think they see me for who I was in middle school. I don't think they really know me, and I don't really claim to know them anymore. Friendships fizzle. I get that. I think they fizzled because of lack of depth, and whenever I hang out with them as a group when I'm home, I feel like a total outsider. Late in high school, I met a bunch of people on a retreat, and craving the depth I didn't have in other friendships, I gravitated towards them. It had nothing to do with religion; it was just that the retreat setting provided for an initial segue into knowing them better. They shared their experiences on the retreat even though I barely knew them, and I wanted to get to know them better.
I left for college, and I was distraught about not having any truly deep friendships established. I didn't know who I would confide in, who would just sit and wonder about the world with me, or who I would be a source of confidence for. That changed quickly, and in college I formed some of the deepest friendships I have to this day. I tell you that to tell you the mindset I came in to Korea with. I was scared again about not having any deep friendships, but I was confident I would make them happen.
The last few weeks have been trying. Dealing with the physical, legal, and emotional toll of this motorcycle accident has been harder than expected. The earthquake in Nepal has left me with a ticket to Nepal in May and a ruined city. Unsure of how I'll proceed, I'm hoping to go and make a difference, so long as my foot is healed in time. I planned on getting LASIK surgery next week, and I had it all booked, but the costs of the accident have made that infeasible. I have had some missteps with my friends here that have left me down on myself. It just seems like I'm in a bit of a rut right now. I started to examine my friendships here and their depth, and I started to feel like I have only formed a few deep friendships. It started to eat away at me because I wanted to be able to just jump into deeper conversations, but I realized I wasn't feeling comfortable doing so with the people I saw daily. I didn't want to be a burden with my problems, and I didn't want to seem argumentative by talking about social/political ideas on my mind. I was too scared of ruffling feathers and alienating the only support I have during a tough time.
I think I'm over the hump on that. I had to sit down and tell myself that not every conversation has to be mind-altering and thought-provoking (as important as those conversations are), but sometimes just talking with someone about anything at all can be a source of comfort. As I've been more receptive to those littler conversations (read as not holing myself up in my room and being moody), the deeper conversations have happened. I've made some lifelong friends here, and it's comforting to know that.
My future for next year is settled, and that's great. My future beyond that isn't, and it's scary, which is something I shouldn't even be considering. I can barely figure out what I'm doing for lunch, and my brain won't stop trying to think about this big conceptual "future." Grad school, relationships, where I'll settle down, future career/jobs, how I'll continue to travel, what's most important to me and what isn't, and so on. In some way, it didn't feel like much of a transition from college to Korea. I was so thrust into the unknown and forced to adapt that I didn't have time to think about anything but the present, and I'm glad. Now that I'm settled and have a plan for the immediate future, my mind is playing tricks on me and thinking ahead too far.
I don't think I'll ever move home (sorry, Mom). I've been trying to figure out my aversion to going back to where I started, and I think it's just that I feel like I've grown apart from the people that made home what it was. I miss the family and several friends, but for some reason my brain wants to move past St. Louis as a permanent residence. I feel kind of guilty about it. It's been nagging me lately. Plenty of time to stew over it, I suppose!
My friend Cayla, who I studied abroad with in Rome, was here this week visiting from her semester abroad in Vietnam. It was so great to see a familiar face. It was odd to have a connection to home here. All this time, my two worlds have been so separate. I wouldn't expect anyone at home to know much about here, and I don't know much about what goes on at home besides what I see in the news. Just having someone to show around and to understand life here was really great. It's been a good week on that front.
That's about all I have for now. Have a good weekend.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Setbacks
Well, it's been a rough few days. It could be much worse, but nonetheless rough. I was in a motorcycle accident last Thursday, and I broke my foot. I'm wheel chair bound and starting to go a bit stir crazy. My health insurance has covered nothing, and I'm not sure why. Additionally, I found out that one of my best friend's has had his cancer return, and it's spread to his lungs. I'm missing home, and trying to find ways to stay positive.
It's funny how life works like that, isn't it? It seems like I was writing here just recently about how great life was going, and how it seemed like nothing could go wrong. I'm still so stoked for the job in Rome, but there's certainly been a flood of bad news recently.
One of the bright sides to the bad news is the overwhelming response of support I've received. Between coworkers and folks at home, I've really felt the love, and it's tough to be down on life when you know you're so well-supported. I'm playing a show with my guitar at a small cafe in the city on May 1, and there's lots of fun BBQ adventures coming up (perhaps even trying to smoke a whole hog). I think that's one of the keys when life throws you curveballs; you have to make yourself acutely aware of all the fortune you have in your life. Bad news tends to make the happy things harder to see.
I'm starting to realize just how much my brain lets me go crazy over trivial nonsense. I said something last week that offended a coworker, and although she was very forgiving, I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. I still feel guilty about it. I'm trying to be conscious of the fact that I can make mistakes and move on from them without beating myself up about it. I don't know why my brain wants me to dwell on stupid things I say or do and make them out to be character flaws. I'm trying to do my best, and sometimes I just have to remind myself of that.
I suppose this is a post that's more cathartic for me than anything. I've really felt the distance from home these last few days. My coworkers and friends here have been great, but sometimes you just long for people from home, and I've definitely had some lonely moments. That said, I certainly haven't been neglected here. Between Michael, Johanna, and Kathleen who picked me up from my motorcycle accident when I was in a bit of a shock/panic and helped me calm down before taking me to the hospital, Lucas and Nicole Dines who have been running me all over town and being there for me for whatever I need, Tom Hambley who picked me up some medical supplies, and a bunch of other awesome friends who have just been there for moral support, it's been easy to find myself feeling lucky despite the bad luck. No matter what happens to me, I know I'm one of the luckiest guys around on a daily basis.
Please keep my friend who has been re-diagnosed with cancer in your thoughts, prayers, hopes, good vibes, or whatever else you practice giving to those in need. He's a remarkable human, and he's been like a second father and a brother to me. He's one of the strongest men I know, and if anyone's going to give it a hell of a fight, he is. Thank for reading as always, and have a nice week, everyone.
It's funny how life works like that, isn't it? It seems like I was writing here just recently about how great life was going, and how it seemed like nothing could go wrong. I'm still so stoked for the job in Rome, but there's certainly been a flood of bad news recently.
One of the bright sides to the bad news is the overwhelming response of support I've received. Between coworkers and folks at home, I've really felt the love, and it's tough to be down on life when you know you're so well-supported. I'm playing a show with my guitar at a small cafe in the city on May 1, and there's lots of fun BBQ adventures coming up (perhaps even trying to smoke a whole hog). I think that's one of the keys when life throws you curveballs; you have to make yourself acutely aware of all the fortune you have in your life. Bad news tends to make the happy things harder to see.
I'm starting to realize just how much my brain lets me go crazy over trivial nonsense. I said something last week that offended a coworker, and although she was very forgiving, I couldn't stop thinking about it for days. I still feel guilty about it. I'm trying to be conscious of the fact that I can make mistakes and move on from them without beating myself up about it. I don't know why my brain wants me to dwell on stupid things I say or do and make them out to be character flaws. I'm trying to do my best, and sometimes I just have to remind myself of that.
I suppose this is a post that's more cathartic for me than anything. I've really felt the distance from home these last few days. My coworkers and friends here have been great, but sometimes you just long for people from home, and I've definitely had some lonely moments. That said, I certainly haven't been neglected here. Between Michael, Johanna, and Kathleen who picked me up from my motorcycle accident when I was in a bit of a shock/panic and helped me calm down before taking me to the hospital, Lucas and Nicole Dines who have been running me all over town and being there for me for whatever I need, Tom Hambley who picked me up some medical supplies, and a bunch of other awesome friends who have just been there for moral support, it's been easy to find myself feeling lucky despite the bad luck. No matter what happens to me, I know I'm one of the luckiest guys around on a daily basis.
Please keep my friend who has been re-diagnosed with cancer in your thoughts, prayers, hopes, good vibes, or whatever else you practice giving to those in need. He's a remarkable human, and he's been like a second father and a brother to me. He's one of the strongest men I know, and if anyone's going to give it a hell of a fight, he is. Thank for reading as always, and have a nice week, everyone.
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