Chasing My Tail Around the Sun

 

For the first time in over three years, I'm going home.

It's been so long that I don't even know what to expect. Outside of life with my sisters, I've mostly forgotten what it was like to exist in the US. Plus, I'd imagine that it's changed from what I remember.

The last time I went home the Harri-bou-bou still lived there and I wasn't as set in my ways here. We didn't have dogs, I didn't have commitments and I felt that I might somehow go for a visit and get stuck there.  Something I desperately didn't want. My entire being vibrated with the fear that I'd be forced to give up before I'd really even begun.

Three years later it's a very different situation. My drama has found it's stride. I'm settled into a comfortable life with substantial friendships, some semblance of a career, side projects, puppies, a passable grasp on the language, and I'm content in it all. So content I'm not even worried about losing it. It's just something that is right now and someday may not be anymore. Either way it's alright because I've done it right. My goals have been accomplished, my questions have been answered.

After this trip things will change. I doubt I'm moving back the the US anytime soon, but I will be going home more and I will be spending more time with friends and family. From here my world gets bigger again and I'm excited about that.

Let's Go Home Together

There is always a bee in my bonnet about something, lately it's been about riding my bike, which happens to be a 10 year rusty old cruiser handed down to me by Norma Jean before she ran off to be the lead in her own drama in the Southern Hemisphere. 

With Korean classes finished I decided to get my butt back in the seat and start riding home from work. Kind of ease myself back into it. A great idea on all accounts, except that I forgot the important of science in daily life.  Like, when air changes temperature it changes pressure... which meant I faced my first ride home with bike tires that were dramatically under inflated... dramatically.

It was as if I was peddling backwards, I had it is first gear and could hardly propel it forward.  Huffing and puffing with all my might, I thought, "Oh, my god! What has happened to me? I can't even ride a bike." At which point I asked myself, "Why am I kicking myself in my own butt when I peddle?" Thus jogging my memory that I had recently loaned my bike to someone a great deal shorter than myself and they had lowered my seat. Since this was one thing I could fix in the moment, I did and the ride went from feeling like I was going backwards, to just feeling like I was pedaling through think mud.  A drastic improvement. 

Once I was on the road I was elbows out, head down, huffing and puffing like the wicked witch of the west except my outfit wasn't black enough.  With my knitted pink and brown wrist warmers, fuzzy ear muffs, and big puffy navy and orange jacket - I was a red clown nose away from the circus. 

In the end, the trip took 1.5 hours due to the tire situation.  The next day, with tires fixed and seats raised, it only took 50 minutes.  Which really isn't bad on an old beater. It looks like this will be my new mode of transportation until the roads ice up in a few months.  Here is a bit of what it looks like on the road home.

Move over food blogs, my life goes here.

How the blog feels right now.

Although I've avoided creating a location dependent useful blog, I've finally jumped off the cliff and created South of Seoul.  I already manage this blog (Until We Meet Again), The Expat Table, and NaeNae Korean so doing one more wasn't of interest to me.  However, not many folks have lived in this area very long and people ask me for information regularly so having blogs with addresses and info is easier than answering the same question a hundred times.  I tried just posting them on this blog, but it just messes up my flow.

This blog isn't supposed to be about anything.  It's not supposed to be useful, it's just where I ramble about crap so I can get my brain right.  Kind of like a journal everyone is allowed to see, but nobody is really supposed know about.  Except that now they do. Apparently thousands of people each month now stroll through my drama.  Which is fine, but also weird because they might not really care.  They might just be looking for a burger or a Korean grammar point.  

Which is why I'm getting my act together and getting rid of some of the clutter.  So, for those of you who are caught up in the drama, feel free to stick around.  But if you are just interested in finding lunch or passing your exams, check out my other blogs and you will find more of what you are looking for in easier to search formats.  You don't have to sort through all my issues just to find a good sandwich.

South of Seoul:  Things to eat and do around Pyeongtaek

The Expat Table: Expat oriented cooking and gardening website.

NaeNae Korean:  Help for those studying Korean, especially the KIIP program

a world of doodles is born

It all started with a boy.  A boy and a book.  A book and a tender heart.

Let me elaborate... about a year and a half ago, I dated a boy.  We had a lot in common; he's smart and funny, comes from a good family, and makes music.  It was only for about 6 weeks, and it ended because he just didn't like me that much.

Objectively, it wasn't a good fit, and our lives were in different places.  As a logical person, this totally makes sense.  As a life-long romantic, who was currently a traveling, musical, bliss-sprinkler in the midst of the counter-culture shock of the west, and the first winter I'd had in years (and a pretty rough start in Australia,) it was slightly devastating.


Feeling pretty isolated, and not having internet (part of said rough start) I joined my local library to check my emails, and keep in touch with the wider world.

Libraries are magical universes unto themselves; time stops, things are still, there are limitless stories.  All is quiet thanks to the watchful eyes of dowager librarians in lumpy grandpa cardigans.

It is here, in a library, in suburban Melbourne, that I found an American friend who's heart had also been been tender, and open, and bruised, and resilient.  All at the same time.   His name is Leonard Cohen and his 'Book of Longing' brought me so much.

I had started writing poetry about feeling sad, that longing for community, the isolation of winter - both in Melbourne and being coldly alone in a new place,  expectations set upon women, and mostly girly, romantic notions of things that didn't work out.


Reading a book of how someone else felt the same way was inspiring, and inspired me to start creating out of it.  It started with a couple little doodles.. they weren't for anyone else but myself.

I think I started drawing them as a roadmap to get back to myself, to gain perspective of  my life, what I value, and how to genuinely love myself in the face of isolation, a consumerist society, and the illusion of loneliness.  


I'd take pictures of them and read them on the tram or waiting at bus stops, reminding myself that everything is okay and the feeling that it's not, is temporary.  I started sharing them with friends who felt similarly, who'd internalized the idea that in any way they just weren't enough.  Enough for a boy, enough for a job, enough for themselves.

Sometimes the road we pave for ourselves helps others get to the same destination.

Friends encouraged me to share them, and I decided to launch the ambitious project of posting a new doodle, everyday for the entire year of 2015 on my Instagram.

It's been a pretty great ride so far, and the road that I've started down I now walk with heaps of supporters, friends, and an entire online illustration community.


Today is day 280 out of 365.  I've gone through more relationships, friends, jobs, and moments of self-doubt since those first little cartoons.  I've come out stronger, my heart confident that I know who I am, and that I'm not only okay, I'm great (hopefully with a sense of irony, humor and a bit of grace!)

Love,

Norma Jean

Check out my Instagram  or website, Norma Jean Loves where you can see my doodles, music, and everything I love.

Ratings Always Ruin The Best Shows

This blog is not supposed to be useful.

It's with great hesitation

that I include useful information.

Like many long running dramas,

popularity often dilutes the storyline

as viewers opinions become more and more

influential in determining the plot.

It would be grand

if I never knew the ratings.

If I could just write 

and think 

and have opinions

and pretend that no one ever saw them.

However, that's not really how blogging platforms work.

Every time I log in, there it is.

A graph that declares the winners and losers

and it compels me to be helpful.

Like the devil on my shoulder,

it tells me to add links 

and maps 

and accurate information 

because people are searching 

and needing 

and requiring.

But really, I just write this for myself

and the others in this drams.

So that we can remember 

the best episodes 

once our time together 

has gone off the air.

None of this is meant to be anything beyond 

the memory of my Drama.

Insignificance is Relative

Don't walk past what you find beautiful,

simply because you fear it's insignificance.  

You are not less of a person

if you are the only one to see the beauty.

Love what you love.

Celebrate what you find enchanting.

There are no right answers to loveliness.

It is enough to love it as it is all alone.

The Search For Life

After a winter of thinking, 

spring has brought such lovely light.

It's so nice to be comfortable,

my life having found a pleasant gate.

It's interesting the evolution 

from isolation to integration.

I have forgotten what was once strange.

It now seems so normal and obvious.

Ways of thinking that seemed ridiculous,

now seem filled with reason and purpose.

Of course, I'm certainly an "outsider",

I'm aware of that,

but just because one is an outsider

that doesn't mean one isn't integrated.

 At least for me...

I see integration as comfort,

and I am comfortable.

 

So I now find myself more concerened

with participating in the world around me

rather than observing the world around me.

And I just want to report from the other side that

there is a life beyond our borders.

Whether it be 

emotional,

spiritual

or physical.

There is life out there.

All we have to do is take the steps.

No Retreat, Full Surrender

The warm glow of home.

 As I stand at the door of my third year in Korea,
it feels like the world is peeling back
and opening up around me.
So, of course, I stop to consider my choices.

On paper, I would never have chosen this life.
There are so many other "ideal" situations.
A plethora of smarter choices.
Yet, there is something inexplicably joyful
about making the best of what I've had,
even when it didn't look like my dream at first glance,
I soon discovered
I hadn't dreamed big enough.

So, here I am.
 Living the happiest version of myself
that I've met yet.

It's one of the best parts about being older.
Sitting still doesn't scare me much anymore.
I'm not interested in chasing new horizons,
although I still want to do new things.

When I look in the mirror I'm fine.
When I see my life I'm content.
When I see my to do list,
I know it will get done.
And even if it doesn't,
that's just fine.

And when people ask,

"When are you going back?"

All I can say is,

"I don't known when I will return to live in the US,

but there is one thing I know for sure,

I'm never 

'going back'".

Year 1:
Two years ago this was brand new:

http://chasingatale.blogspot.kr/2011/02/point-to-point-b.html

Year 2:

Then a year passed and I was brand new:

http://chasingatale.blogspot.kr/2012/02/reflection.html

"Nice to Meet You" and Other Stupid Things Koreans Say

Each time I sit down to study Korean I discover new linguistic differences that explain many of the "mistakes" made by Korean speakers.  Each time I feel my heart break just a little bit as well.  The first reason my heart breaks is because I realize that, we English teachers, spend far too much time making fun of students, and far too little time trying to understand why they might make the same mistakes over and over again.

However, my heart is mostly heavy because I see how much Koreans are ridiculed for their English mistakes (even though they are making an effort to communicate in a new language while their teachers often make no effort) as if they are "stupid" for making them.  I've most certainly engaged in this without thinking, but no more.

First, let's look at how we judge our kids when they use "nice to meet you".  In Korean this is a perfectly normal expression to say over and over again, each time you "meet" a person.  In fact, it's the polite thing to do to your elders.  You are meeting, and it's nice.  For Korean students, it's hard to grasp that - in English - this is tied only to a FIRST meeting.  Students don't understand why it isn't always "nice to meet" English speaking folks.  English is the weird one here, not your students.

So, please, stop freaking out when your students always say, "Nice to meet you."  Slow down, explain the different perceptions of the verb "to meet".  They learn this simple phrase early in their language development long before they can understand the conceptual, abstract uses of phrases and verbs.  They are doing their best.  They are using a new language as best they can, based on the rules that they know.  They are trying to be respectful, so take a moment to respect them and their effort.  You are their teacher after all, not their school yard bully.

Second, lets look at how we judge the adults we meet.  Excited Korean's will often refer to everything they show you as being "famous".  Many Westerners get all caught up in this.  Annoyed because Korean's think everything is famous.  The Westerners start going on and on about how "Korea isn't all that" and Korean's need to learn that that what they haven't isn't the most famous thing ever.

Now, before we even get into the linguistic issues I would like to say, "This is their country.  Let them be as proud of it as they want to be."  We should all be proud of where we live and think it's the best.  It's not a big deal and doesn't make where you are from any less awesome.  Just because Korean's love Korea, doesn't affect that I think Alaska is the best thing to ever happen to the world.

But back to linguistics,  in Korean "famous" and "known for" are the same word.  So, when Korean's learn English they don't see any difference between "famous" and "known for".  They will just throw famous around like it ain't no thing.  When they say someplace is, "Famous for their noodles",  it's the same thing as saying they're , "Known for their noodles".  It's not some over prideful statement. It's just a statement of fact.

I beg of you, take a moment to consider the world from a perspective not your own.  Step back and respect the world around you before you jump on judging the world around you.  You are living in a new culture, in a new country, with people that don't speak the same language as you.  Maybe, just maybe, you don't have all the information.

"Yes"terday's Dinner

One of my all-time favorite shows is "Being Erica".

It helped give me the idea 

of moving to South Korea in the first place.

In the show there is a total tosser 

who writes a book called "The Power of Yes".

It was so ridiculous, but it got me thinking, 

"Why not?" 

Why not just say, "Yes" 

to everything I am offered?

So, for the last three years I've done just that.

This last weekend -

as I bit into some of the best 

meatballs, braciola, and Italian sausages

I've had in my life - 

I realized they tasted like, "Yes."

Each bite made you feel like life was 

easy, exciting, and rich.

Each mouthful made me want to say,

"Yes", to family.

"Yes", to friends.

"Yes", to adventure.

"Yes", to risk.

"Yes", to reward.

I know. I know.

That's a lot to read into a meal,

but when people cook you can taste who they are 

and/or who they want to be.

If they are afraid... you can taste it.

If they don't care... you can taste it.

If they are exhausted... you can taste it.

  

but at the same time

If they love... you can taste it.

If they dream... you can taste it.

If they live... you can taste it.

So, although I have only just met my lovely hosts,

I think they must be amazing people, because 

last night "yes" was rolled into every spicy 

meatball, braciola, sausage and rice ball.

Always A Little Wendy

This Wendy has never believed
the lost boys should have had to leave Neverland.

Maybe it's a flaw in my character,
But I think we should all be kids forever.

We should clap at butterflies.
Run barefoot in the summer.
Turn cartwheels in grass.
Ride bikes with our elbows out and head down.
Throw rocks at the water to count the ripples.
Slide down snowy hills.
Laugh when we fall down.

I believe in wonder.
I believe in delight.

So if you want you children to grow up serious.
If you want them to live in the "real world".
It's best if you keep them away from me.
I'll teach them all the wrong things.

But if you want someone who teaches them
that its always going to be ok,
that mistakes are worth it,
hard work is the greatest fun,
and laughter is the way through -
then send them my way.

We will fight with our wooden swords
until every last dream has been conquered,
then we will fall into exhausted sleep
and dream up more.

Perfect, Just As It Is

Beautiful things are everywhere, just waiting to be found.

But I've always loved the lost, broken things the best.

Just ask the Hairi-bou.

Speling Mistaques

No errors were staged in the writing of this article.

 
Without a doubt,

I can't spell.

Nor can I proof

my own work.

Dyslexia and computer screens 

show me what I want to see,

not what truly exists.

When I was younger this made me a captive,

terrified of communicating in written words.

Whenever I had to write I had gut wrenching anxiety,

because I knew my heartfelt words would not be read, only judged.

 Thankfully, though, people mocked me.

They ridiculed me and they berated me.

They did it endlessly, tirelessly, bitterly
until I just didn't care anymore.

One day, their judgment set me free.
I realized that, 

even if I spelled everything perfectly,it wouldn't really matter.
The people that were the hardest on me
weren't trying to help,
they weren't going to hear my voice,
they just wanted to be right.

That was when I realized
I didn't want to be perfect.
I wanted to be flawed.
I wanted to be mistaken.
I wanted to be happy.

Now that I teach English I remember this battle,
and although I hold my students
to an exceptionally high standard in class,
when they open up their hearts
I put away my red pen.
For me,
there are no errors
when the heart is on the line.
It's only their thoughts that counts.


 

A Love Story

The first time I knew love,

was on the tail of a ferry leaving France.

I stood alone and wept silent, painful tears

as chunks of my heart fell out and

mixed with the foam 

the sea and the salt.

It felt as I was being torn from the arms of my mother.

It remains one of the most painful memories of my life,

as it was the first time my heart was broken.

That was when I decided I would do anything,

would give up every part of a normal thing,

to be with my love again.

I was seven,

when I lost my heart to travel.

I'd imagine that this must be how some people feel 

about their children, 

or their husbands,

or their careers.

For me though, my heart skips-a-beat

for foreign sounds,

unknown places,

smells I've never found before.

For the majority of my life 

I've gone from one love to the next.

Chasing the always changing sunsets.

Wrapped in the vines embrace of new jungles.

 Caressed by the winds of many mountain tops.

My heart skipped from one place to another,

avoiding the heartache of loving what I would lose.

That was until I came to Korea.

Now I find myself falling in love again and again.

Each time I turn around I feel like my heart has more room 

for this beautiful, unique world.

It's not that I find it perfect,

but I find it perfect for me.

I accept it's failures,

and my insides go pitter-patter for it's charms.

For better or for worse,

I have fallen deeply, madly, passionately

 in love with this place,

with this Drama.

BREAKING NEWS

Pigs are flying.

Hell has frozen over.

These are facts.

How do I know this to be true?

Tonight, on the way home, 

after feeling just a little sick all day,

I had the compulsion to run.

So - calling my brains bluff - 

I tightened up my backpack,

tossed my scarify jauntily over my shoulder,

and I ran.

Not only did I run, 

but I ran easily

and for a long distance.

until finally I willed myself to stop.

Not because I was tired 

or physically uncomfortable,

but because the overt and disturbing strangeness of it all.

I don't run for the bus.

I distrust anyone who runs as a hobby. 

In fact,  I consider running to be on of my sister's few faults.

A person like me simple does not,

in any sense or shape,

 just suddenly become a runner.

Especially when they are looking 40 in it's smug little face.

It's just not natural.

So I pondered that maybe I had died,

or possibly there was a glitch in the matrix.

However, I still had a yearning for spaghetti 

so I wrote those options off as unlikely.

Still, the desire to run nipped at my heals.

I wanted to fly along the rice paddies,

like I used to fly across the tundra.

I fought it.

I wandered slowly

in a lazy pattern.

Yet, even as I bounded up my stairs

in anticipation of tonights coverage of arial bacon and a frozen hades,

my mind lingered outside in the cool autumn air.

I just wanted to feel my feet floating across the ground once again.

You Are Not Lost, Just Besotten

With your dignity in tact,

you lay in waste. 

You have set aside your hope,

but grace you've not forsaken.

Somewhere someone watches,

holding onto hope for you.

Waiting for you to find the stamina,

to walk a while more.

Big Dreams and Forgotten Things

 In piles and remnants,

that often pass unknown,

there is a documentation

of dreams and hopes

of loves and of loses.

They are fruition.

They are abandonment.

 The are hope that it might end well, 

not today, 

but tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow.

 To find these and other lost things, visit:

 인제군 인제읍 귀둔1리 5반 1004, Inje 252-804

Internal Medicine

Dear Me, Myself & I,

Please take a moment to remember that you have never, in fact, learned anything faster because your teacher sounded annoyed with you.  More pointedly, the more annoyed your teacher sounded the less likely you are to pay any attention in class or make any effort.

Since this is a fact that has proven itself true for 36 years, what makes you think your students are any different?

Loves, Yourself.



_________________________

Dear Yourself,

So what I hear you saying is that I should stop being a lazy teacher and blaming my students for my own failures.  Gosh, that seems like a lot of work.

Hearts,
Me, Myself & I

_________________________

Dear Me, Myself & I,

That's why they call it a job and that's why they pay you money.  If children could learn by osmosis we would just stick English books under their pillows and stop wasting our hard earned money on you.  Now quit being a lazy educator and listen to your students needs instead of getting annoyed just because they didn't catch it the first time you raced through the lesson.   That's why you have 40 minutes to teach and not 15.  This is about ALL the students learning, not just the smart ones.

Best of luck,
Yourself

_________________________

Dear Yourself,

Hum, you sound a bit annoyed with me that I didn't listen to you the first time around.  Does it bother you that you've had to explain this too me twice?  Hum, it seems you aren't all that different from myself.

Hugs,
Me, Myself & I
 

Review Re-edit Remember

There are so many ways of viewing a moment and a lifetime. Sometimes one just has to sit down and assess if they used the right filter, filed the right feeling, archived the right print.

Yearling

A lot has changed in the last year.

A year ago today,

 I was riding my bike through Sokcho

letting the wind and sea air line my lungs as I raced

to trade soup for bread with the one friend I allowed myself to make.

Today I'm meeting the same friend 

as we prepare to say, "Goodbye!"

and he is swept away by my other bestie,

Babbie, to the good old US of A.

A year ago,

I was also saying, "Goodbye!"

To my first school of students.  

Preparing, myself to move from Sokcho 

to the unknown world

that is Anjung-eup.

A year ago, 

this is what my first garden looked like

 before I left it behind to start my life all over again, again.

 One year ago, 

I looked forward without hesitation and road the waves without question.

 

I hope that I can continue to as brave as I was,
or at least appeared to be,

one year ago.