A year ago, I was flying 40,000 feet in the air, headed back to Seoul for the second time that year. Seoul, a place that had captured my heart only 5 months prior. The truth is, it’s been 2 years since my mother passed, and I still, to this very day, feel like my life is in a free-fall. There have been bright moments, and most of those moments are connected with the trips I took to Seoul.
The first time, it was an absolute random decision made moments before the stroke of midnight leading into the new year. That random decision suddenly gave me goals, and purpose, in the midst of heavy grieving. Suddenly, I was teaching myself Korean, learning about the culture, working out and even feeding myself regularly. In my deep depression, the ice started to melt like during the first hints of spring.
Now, here I am, a year later from my the beginning of my 3 month excursion in Korea. By divine intervention, traveling was so, incredibly healing. There are so many stories, but, I’ve neglected this blog. I’ve held these stories hostage the same way I’ve held my breath, waiting to exhale. Exhale what? Exhale these vaulted memories for fear that it was all a dream. But, it wasn’t. It was very real. Even more real, are the relationships created around such a trip. Who knew I’d run around Seoul with 2 Canadians, or be part of a dynamic church and experience fellowship that I haven’t had since before my mother passed? Who knew I’d meet the Taoist elder who was convinced I was destined to marry a Korean man, without striving, easily glide into the Seoul fashion scene, or meet my Chinese Unnie who taught me to play the gayageum…so many stories I think I’ll start unraveling these tangled memories that began a year ago. I have faith, I’ll be making more memories soon.
Life is going to keep happening, but that shouldn’t stifle or stop your creativity.
I’m rooting for you.