on walls, the unknown, and jumping in

I knew my reality was clearly defined
By the fences put up around my mind
I watched them thicken into walls over time
Taller than any borderline
-from a song by Brett Dennen

Drink up baby doll
Are you in or are you out?
Leave your things behind
'Cause it's all going off without you
Excuse me, too busy, you're writing your tragedy
These mishaps you bubble-wrap
When you've no idea what you're like
So, let go, let go
Jump in
Oh well, what you waiting for?
-from a song by Frou Frou


I've been thinking about so much in the past couple days...it's been a particularly frustrating week in terms of things at school, what my life looks like here, the choices I make, and how those things affect my perspective. And all these thoughts have got me questioning nearly everything at the moment...what am I really doing here, am I supposed to be here, can I stick this out for however long I'm meant to? I know the short answers to these questions—sorting things out, learning more about myself and where I want to go in life; yes, even though it doesn't always feel like it, this is where I'm supposed to be right now; yes, but it's going to be hard sometimes and in those moments I'll probably question the intelligence of my decision to come back here; respectively.

But the certainty and positivity I felt in my first few weeks here have dwindled down until they've become nearly non-existent.

Last time everything was brand-new and unexpected and brilliant and what I encountered was through no choice of my own. I didn't get to divert anything uncomfortable away from me, and it was a growing experience because of that, because of how I had to deal with everything as it hit me in the face. But this time I am wanting a deeper experience, wanting the long answers, wanting to really get into it and do what I came here to do. And for some reason I thought those desires would be satisfied by having specific direction on what I'm to learn, by more thoroughly understanding things and doing so on a more immediate basis. I don't know why I thought that, though, because if there's one thing I've learned over the past year or two it's that I will almost never know the answers right away.

The irony in all of this is that the frustration is building up fences in my mind about every tough situation in which I find myself, and preventing me from jumping in to explore the depth and growth that I know lie within those situations. I am my own worst enemy right now, I am fighting myself and losing, I am the only one standing in my way. The longer I wait to make a change, the taller those walls will get and the more scary it will be to take them down and make myself vulnerable to life here. The difficulty, I think, is that I want to be vulnerable and open to whatever comes, but to do so with the strength and wisdom I didn't have last time around. And there's a disconnect there for me; I don't know what the combination of those things looks like.

Earlier tonight I found some notes I had posted on Facebook about two years ago and re-read them to find that the words I wrote back then were still relevant to me, still descriptive of how I've been feeling and what I've been going through lately. I found myself in similar positions and wanting similar things then and now. It saddens me somewhat to see that I'm still working to learn the same old lessons, but I suppose it also reminds me that life is a continuous, fluid thing. We are constantly learning and relearning and will keep on with that until we get it. And we need to remember to embrace the process and live the journey.

There's this old quarry we used to go to in the summer in Virginia—they'd filled it in with water that was a beautiful deep turquoise color and deeper than we could know. The best way to experience it was to jump off the cliffs that edged one long side of the water, and you had to climb about 30 feet up to get to the jumping point. It was a slightly scary climb; there were a few narrow points and if you slipped and fell you'd hit some rocks on the way down. And once you got to the top, it might take a little while to gather the courage to jump. But when you jumped, oh man. The few slow-motion seconds of freefall followed by the quick rush of liquid all around you as you landed in the water...incredible. You wanted to swim around for a bit then get out and climb back up right away for more. I feel like that's an appropriate analogy for my life here right now...the best way to live the journey is to jump in. And I can see the water and I know how great it's going to feel to freefall and enter the unknown depths. But first I've got to conquer my fears and make myself step off the edge.

Like I said, it's been a rough little while, and it's not going to be easy to take the steps that I know I need to take. But I came here to take on the difficult and uncomfortable and to explore new depths, in whatever form that may be. I began to build these walls in my mind, but they aren't indestructible. What waits on the other side is frightening in its unknown-ness but exciting in its possibility. And the motivation to get past the walls to what I know waits on the other side is right here waiting for me to take it, just as soon as I decide to take that step off the edge.


As always, I hope this finds you all well and happy. I don't have any new photos to post, but I will within the next few weeks as I explore more of Busan before it gets too cold to leave my apartment.

Annyeong,
Heather