The Beginning: Bathtub Revelations

The journey began before departure. It began with that first realization that I was making the conscious choice to disrupt my comfortable, comprehensible world in order to see what might happen. The disruption began as an infrequent reflection of what a trip across the globe could entail... of what adventures were awaiting my arrival. Then it became an acute case of melancholy. Melancholy for what? Ah, I am still trying to discover the exact answer myself, but I’m definitely getting warmer.

A few nights ago, I sat for about two hours in the bathtub, crying gently and then giving in to a teeth rattling sob session. My ever-stoic boyfriend, Morgan, softly asked if I could talk about what was going on in my head. As tears rolled steadily, I explained that my insides were not at peace. I told him how I feared leaving four elderly grandparents and those three adorable youngsters who consider me their “Franti”. How the regrets and sadness of other people (people I don’t even know in some cases) consume me to the point where they become my own hurts and I dwell on them. How when I think of my glorious childhood, I am alarmed by some flaws in character I have since developed... and how I feel as though they have rooted themselves so deeply that weeding will be a terribly difficult task. How all the many happy moments I experience eventually become memories (and, in turn, nostalgia) which rip me apart in difficult times. I reasoned that happiness is the origin of misery through the hopes and expectations it creates. I then went on about how life truly is suffering... a beautiful experience, but one filled with pain caused by the very thing we seek: happiness. So much was going through my mind that I was very likely babbling like a two-year-old.


Thankfully, I’ve since had a few days to replay my philosophizing session and have come to terms with the pervasive sadness that’s recently been lurking beneath the surface. I have realized that simply the idea of leaving for a year is what became a catalyst for this much-needed introspection. As I sit here in Chicago O’Hare National Airport, listening to Virginia Rodridues and exchanging smiles with an adorable little girl, I feel as though my internal struggle has quietly, shyly subsided. This is certainly thanks to the fact that I finally opened myself up to the incredible support system that I have had, and continue to have, available to me. I can now appreciate that my crisis is coming at a very understandable time and that I have just begun to flirt with a certain elasticity of mind and heart that is rather uncomfortable.


I want to sincerely thank anyone who constantly reminds me to “be here now” (oh, Gail Sowerby!) and not dwell on that which I have no control over... I want to thank those who realized that my melancholy behaviour had basically nothing to do with Korea and had much to do with the fact that I needed to let more balance and calmness into my life. So, I now await my 18-hour flight with anticipation for what lies beyond. I will truly miss my loved ones, but those of you who know me best understand that it is part of my character to continue to search, continue to challenge, continue to grow...


One Love One Heart