Ready to Run

One week before my journey- seven days. I'm in a well of emotions. Unfortunately, sadness is at the front, followed very closely by excitement. But still, sadness is my main emotion these days. It is difficult to remember that a window is open when you're stuck watching a door close in your face in slow motion. For seven more days. Some of the most incredible people I've met are on this trip. Ones I'm not ready to live without. I think the fear of never seeing some of these people weighs heavily on my mind. That such an impact on my life will only be a freckle, dust in the past, if given the time. Amazing to see how time makes everything minute. And it never stops either. If I could stop time, choose one moment to stop time and keep living, as much as I love everything about this moment, about my life, my friends, etc, I know this wouldn't be the moment I choose to live in. I have so much growing and changing to do. And though I'm sad to leave and scared of what lies ahead, the thought that I'm not ready to stop time just yet, I'm not ready to stop growing and changing propels me forward. Gives me hope. And suddenly I'm feeling something other than sadness, that sadness has suddenly begun changing on its own, into something more tangible. Something more appreciative. I feel gratitude. To my friends, family, country- old and new, to my past, to the present, and to the future. I know I'm ready.

Dance of loneliness

He's out the door
Its all you can do
To stop him.
Standing there
Naked in the doorway
Drop down in heaves
Of silence.
Is this right
Was this wrong
It's gone again.
Light another one up
Replace the last
And you're gone again.
Shooting through your veins
One thing on your brain
Like heroine.
The waiting is done
When you breathe the one
That sticks to your lungs 

Like tar.
Blackens you 

From the inside out
Blood dried 

Veins in drought
Thoughts leave your brain in doubt.
Heart crumbled to ash
Dusts the floor

Mixing with 

The cigarette tip
One more drag 

The world is gone.

Last cigarette
Drag it all in
Before the world ends.
Light goes out
Toss it down 

Stomp it out.
No second thought 

Move on.
Another dance alone
Same old song.

One Step Forward

There are too many moments in life we wish we could remember, lock away in a secret place only to pull them out when our hearts grow heavy. A reminder that there are things to smile about, good people, wonder in the world. But we tuck these instances, these moments away and forget. Forget that despite language barriers, you taught a girl to whistle, had a full conversation, found your destination, had an amazing day. One simple, simply amazing day. And tomorrow, or one day down the road, when the monotony of life hits hard and fast, you can pull that out of hiding, feel the warmth and happiness, accomplishment, wonder. Remember that you made that happen. You made it happen simply by taking one single step forward. And remind yourself there are many more to take.

A Better Tomorrow

What's going on in the world today?
Politicians finding games to play
Fighting wars with no end in sight
Losing our minds with no reason to fight
The blame comes easy when it's someone else's head
As long as people remember after we're dead
Living our lives to be immortal
Sure there's a light at the end of the tunnel
Fighting so hard to live when we're gone
We've lost sight of what still needs to be done
Where's the love we owe to ourselves?
We'll find it when we put the media on the shelf.
Stealing from ads and labels and clothes
Losing ourselves as our arrogance grows
Live not for today or even our name
Live not by another's rules to this game
Live your life for someone else's tomorrow
True immortality cannot be borrowed.

It didn't matter where we were going

Remember those days
Singing in the car
To whatever came on the radio?
We did something good back then.
We lived in laughter
Not thinking about what comes next.
Drumming out of beat
On the wheel and the dash
Feeling it in our bones.
Windows down
Sun on our elbows
It didn't matter where we were going.
Those days
It was all about the ride.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

One of the most difficult choices we have to make is to let go. Of a shirt, a blanket, a pet, a friend, a family member. Surrendering is always painful, there is always a certain degree of sadness with each loss. A life, a relationship, an attachment. But there is also a beauty, a freedom that comes with loss. A section of yourself that frees up and can allow for growth, for movement, change. Ghandi said we must live in moderation. Eating, drinking, breathing, living, loving in moderation is the key to a happy, successful life. What then, when  a person becomes a part of you, a pet makes your heart burst with joy, a blanket is stitched together with memories? No, this is not the end of the world at large, but it is the end of a world of sorts.

We get so wrapped up in what these things, people, items, say about us that we meld them into ourselves. We feel we cannot go on without them. Our lives will be so drastically changed, altered beyond repair now that our shirt has an irreparable hole! I know losing a life is not something to be taken lightly, I don't plan on acting that way should I lose someone close to me. And I know that I have never lost anyone close to me, but I do know that our lives are governed by our actions. And negative actions can propel a negative association. What on earth is she talking about? I don't know. But I do know that there is a way to remember someone and there is a way to celebrate someone.

OK enough of the rant, this is what I'm getting at. Everything in life should be celebrated, every small happening, small relationship- whether it is with a human, an animal, an inanimate object. It brought you many different emotions and experiences at some point in your life, you have a companion- despite whatever that noun is- with you at all times, someone or something to share an experience with. That flannel shirt is the one you wore when he noticed you the way you've always wanted him to. That ring is the one you wore everyday you traveled Thailand and would twist it around our finger anytime you got confused or lost. That dog is the one you would come home to every day and watch Baywatch with while sneaking him Oreos he shouldn't have been eating before letting him chase you and your friends around the neighborhood. That Grandmother is the one who held you when you were a baby and told you stories you'll never remember about another lifetime you'll never see. These are the connections we have, these are the relationships. When someone dies, when something is lost, when things happen in life, all we are left with are these feelings, fleeting glimpses like short videos or moving photographs in our minds of a time when that person or that thing brought us joy, comfort, happiness, shared our pain or eased our suffering.

A loss should never be easy, but a life should always be celebrated. The dog's life, your grandmother's life, the life you felt in that shirt, the life you lived in that ring. Celebrate those things, give everything the recognition it deserves. Have a small, personal memorial, a ceremony- whether you do it in your head or bring it out to the world, and celebrate that long or brief relationship. And then let go. Don't let go of the memories, the emotions, the moments. Those are untouchable, those are as much a part of you as your fingernails and knee caps. But the physical, the tangible, let go of that. Watch them float away in your mind and keep with you everything you shared with them. And see the world as a better place for having allowed you to share such a precious time with that person, experience so many memorable moments in that shirt, enjoying a laugh at the dog licking your face. Thank them. Celebrate them. And let them go. No one wants to be a ghost, and no one needs a ghost around.

Free

To be the wind
See what it sees
Blowing hair
Rustling leaves
A comfort in heat
On a warm summer day
A reminder in winter
Of those warmer days
A chill down your spine
When you feel you're alone
Fearless and free
To explore the unknown

But where would you go
If you just simply drift
Above, below, around
The present, our gift
Would you stay and hover
And watch where you are
Or travel the world over
From near until far
Crawl up a tree
Watch the leaves shimmy and shake
Topple buildings
While the earth bends and quakes
Fly past bikes
Bugs stuck on the brass
Or float through a shower
Help fog up the glass
The questions we encounter
If we could just simply be
It's a wonder we avoid
Being totally free.

Looking back

What is life but a glimpse in the rear view mirror?
Everything seeming closer than it appears
Grabbing out, reaching, touching
Something no longer there
Shorelines fade away, footprints etched
Walking, stomping, over hearts, minds
With
Should have
Could have
Would have
But if our eyes level with the reflection we should be seeing
Everything fades to emptiness
Blank barren road stretching before us
Waiting to be driven
And the gears get stuck
Our own feet falter
The road looms on and on
The only untraveled path in the map of our mind before us
So we reverse
Away from the unseen, unknown, untraveled
Leaving to the imagination what we perceive to be impossible
And chase the one stuck in the rear view mirror.

Bare Feet and Band Aids

How summer always begins
Young with their innocence wasted on the old
Get in while the waters warm before it turns cold
Always stands to reason the heat brings out the free
Opens the soul to what it's supposed to see
Children running half naked in the streets
Mothers ringing the bell saying kids its time to eat
Keep them on track
Keep them in line
Never let them forget the concept of time
Mud on their cheeks, grass on their knees
The old forget their prayers to gods like these
Of sun and grass and stars and mud
The dirt on their clothes, rain in their hoods
They'd stay out forever if they knew they could
One more sprint one more toss of the ball
One more skip, hop, jump, one more fall
But they always go in when mother calls
They always go in when mother calls
And before they know it the leaves begin to fall.

Pretty Little Lies

They tell you these pretty little lies
So sweet you chase them like fireflies
Believing they light you up
Every time you feel dark inside
Nothing but stars in some jar
Wishes and hopes you follow
Until you get farther, farther, so far
From who you really are
Living for glimpses of blinking, twinkling stars
Nobody told you it doesn't work that way
If you swallow them, that's where they stay
Smoke and ash on your tongue and mouth
The taste of wasted words on their way down
They won't light you up from the inside out
You just end up with swallowed flies
Their fires burned out.

Change Yourself.

We often don't change because we don't want to. We think we want to, we think "Why can't I be like that?" or "I wish I was like that" or "I wish I could be like that". We think in these ways of wishing and hoping that things will change in us, that we will be a different person, not realizing that we are the only ones who can make that change. We can alter the outside, how people see us, make them think that's the way we are, but it won't be.

Is it that the prospect of change is scary? We will be leaving the familiar, we will be entering into uncharted land and will have an opportunity to fail. This is scary. But I don't think that's the reason. I think we don't want to put in the effort. Changing yourself takes time, patience, and very, very hard work. It takes complete presence in every moment, awareness in every decision, every action. Daily, momentary self-reminders, choices, that this is the person I am. Making decisions based on this person. Acting on those decisions. Being those actions. Identifying with that being.

Instead of all this hard work, all of this effort to be the person we want to be, instead we remove our own beliefs completely and  base our actions on a character, an idol, a shell. We begin to act how we want to appear. But that's not you, that's not a person, it's not life. That is an empty gesture to paint a picture. It is Van Gogh painting his bandaged ear without having actually cut it off. "This is how I would look if I cut of my ear and sent it to my girlfriend in a gesture of love and desperation."  It isn't as meaningful, jolting. It isn't real. Instead we work hard to look like something we are not. How can we be? We don't think that way, we don't feel that way, we don't believe that way. We only act that way- empty movements of constantly covering up the truth that we are too lazy, too self involved to put effort into life. Just adopting and adapting in mindless ways, thinking only of how it will look to others.  And when we get found out, what happens then?

Skip all of that. If you are going to put effort into something, put it into yourself, the real you. Become that person, the person you want to be, not just a shell. If you want to wake up early, set the alarm and when it goes off think "I am the kind of person that gets up at the first alarm." If you want to be healthy, work out. Constantly remind yourself, "I am a person who eats healthy." If that doesn't work, think "I am a person who doesn't eat bad food." If you want to be an honest person, always be aware of this and think to yourself "I am an honest person. I am a person who does not lie." If you start making these rules for yourself, individual guidelines of how a specific person should live, you will start to evolve into the person you want to become. It won't matter how people see you because you have already shaped yourself into that person, the one who doesn't swear, who picks up litter off the street, who meditates and does yoga every day, who tries her best to get up at the first alarm but forgives herself when she's just too tired. BE that person.

 Shells can be beautiful, magnificent even. But they are shells. They are not alive without something in them, without substance. Sure, you can make things, hang them on the wall, have them look pretty, but what else are they good for?

We are nothing but our actions. Fill them with meaning.

Life

Somewhere there is an old lady sitting on a semi crowded bus. She is wearing loose black pants with a red, purple, and green floral pattern that gather at the bottom, with a lavender shirt and a straw hat over wild but endearing wiry salt and pepper hair. Her feet look bulky and large, you can tell they feel that way with each step she takes in her dusty red clogs. There is a red market bag on the floor by her feet full of fresh produce and fish that a man in a crisp black suit with a white shirt, black tie, and shoes that reflect the red bag scrunches his nose at before pulling out his mobile phone and reading his email. She turns her head to look out the window and, past her reflection, she notices her stop is next. With knobby, crooked hands she reaches for the red buzzer to signal the driver seated so far away. The tanned skin around her brown eyes wrinkles as something crosses her mind and makes her smile. She reaches down with those same aged hands for her bag and uses all the effort she has to lift herself off the seat. The man in the suit shifts to let the woman by while still staring at his phone. Standing up, as straight as possible, she is hardly at the man's shoulder. The bus brakes hard as it comes to a stop and sends her forward with a little jolt. Surprisingly, and gently, the man in the suit reaches out and grabs the woman's arm to steady her. The wrinkles are back in her eyes as she offers a warm smile and soft "Thank you" and the man looks up from his phone, long enough for her to see that he has blue eyes that wrinkle too, with a smile and quick nod. She carefully steps down off the bus, red bag in one knobby hand while the other guides her down by grasping at the door. When she reaches the sidewalk, she pauses just for a moment, shifts the weight of her bag, and continues on to the right.

Somewhere there is a little girl with a red bow in her hair. She is sitting in the back seat of a small silver car. Tied to her wrist is a red balloon with white words printed on it reading "Congratulations on your Graduation!" She is fidgeting with her seat belt as the car idles in front of a bright red light. She gives up working on making the seat belt comfortable, and instead looks out the window at a bus leaving its latest stop.

Fear

Holding me back
Silent hands
Clasped around my waist
Waiting for me to resist
Fight, break away.
I never do.
So deep in these clutches
Drowning, deeper, deeper
Spinning in circles
Down, down, always down

Convinced
I can never get out.


Something inside says
Break free. Get out.
I finally fight.

Twisting, turning
The phantom limbs won't give
I reach down to release myself
And find my own hands.

The Inevitable Inevitable.

What is this inevitable that we are delaying? This invisible wall that people have put up for us travelers, wanderers, seekers, explorers. This obstruction that we are apparently pushing back as we move forward, oblivious that we are supposed to stop and change course with it. What is this inevitable thing they have planned for us? If we choose to travel and see places we might never see, meet people we might never meet, learn things we might never learn, what, then, are we delaying? This image of what they think we should be doing, of what they think would make our lives better, more meaningful. Normal. What if this is not our image? Are we still delaying what they have set out for us if we are, instead, choosing what we have set out for ourselves? Maybe we are not ready to stay in one place just yet, for any number of reasons. Maybe we are afraid of our potential, maybe we are afraid of our lack of potential, maybe we have accepted their inevitable but want to reach it in our own time, or we are afraid of people seeing us before we see ourselves, maybe we believe we can do more, we want to do more. Maybe all of these things. Or maybe we're just narcissists pretending we're something when we're really just running away from the people who will realize it, and we're just trying to see that for ourselves. The world is a scary place. Life is a scary thing. It is precious and quick, it is our only shot. Why not defy even yourself and do what you're not even sure you can? This inevitable that they have planned for us is a trap, a safety net. "We know you are going to fail, just jump from the roof into the safety net. No one can fly, it's never been done. Just come down now. The joke is over." This is their inevitable. The only inevitable I know to be completely certain is death. And this is something I'd like to come to on my own terms, in my own time. And if that is what I'm delaying, I think we should all be happy.

One More Saturday Night...

This weekend, I decided to stay here in Ulsan instead of going to Seoul with a bunch of friends. I had no plans, I just felt like relaxing, or not doing anything. I really had no idea what I would even do this weekend. I woke up on Saturday morning a little groggy, and randomly read a blog about looking at people as miracles and exploring the world and thinking about things with the utmost simplicity. It must have struck some kind of chord in my brain, because the next thing I know I'm grabbing my camera, a blanket, my ipod, a book and notebook, tossed it all in a backpack and just headed out the door. I really had no idea where I was going or what I would even do, but I set off. I ended up going to a park about 10 minutes from my apartment, Ulsan Grand Park, and walking around. I went from having no plans and nothing to do to finding a rose festival, a zoo (shabby little zoo, there was an albino peacock and a monkey, but it was just nice to be around animals), and walking about 7 miles to a river near the city. It was really an incredible day, I people watched and thought and wrote and just explored the city that has been my home for the past 9 months. I didn't have a care in the world, just walked... it felt like a slow paced Forrest Gump, I walked so much. But I got to practice taking pictures, I really enjoy it. It was nice to take time out for myself, to be alone and make decisions spur of the moment, not worry about what comes next or making people wait or disappointing anyone. I know that seems drastic, it's just a day, but it was a day free from obligation. Free from expectation. And it ended up exceeding my wildest expectations. I met a man who chisels art in wood, he gave me a tour of his shop and asked me to sit down with him while worked on a piece. I had no where to go, no where to be, so I sat with him for a while. I wandered off at the zoo to a restricted area and found a lone monkey just sitting in his cage, but I was so close. I could have reached out and touched him, I really wanted to, but I know that's insane. I walked down a side street and was hit with a huge market full of older people, a very common thing in Korea, but when you happen upon one by chance, it's such a feeling of community and life. I sat by the river and watched the sunset with two friends, laying on my blanket in the grass talking about life and sharing our experiences. It was such a healthy and happy day. It really makes me think about making changes, small changes. Look at life differently, act, do, see, be. Hopefully when I leave here I will bring that with me.

Testing, Testing 1, 2, 3

I have decided to start writing about little things, things I see or think of or feel like putting down. Might show up in a picture, rant, rave, poem, who knows... If you don't already know, the name of this blog is from Sugar Magnolia- a Grateful Dead song... "We can discover the wonders of nature, Rollin in the rushes down by the riverside" Lately I've been starting to evaluate, or re-evaluate my life, and I want to start looking at life as a culmination of little rushes, small little things that give you a rush- of happiness, anger, excitement, surprise, pride, sorrow. Little moments, with friends, family, alone, that make you feel. Make you feel alive. So, at the risk of being a cheesy mo fo, I'm going to try to start "rolling in the rushes". And writing about them.  And making my family read them. Enjoy!