Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You

I would have never believed it a few years ago. Even as I write this, there is still some element of disbelief as I wonder, "Has all of my heartache finally amounted to something useful?"

For the first time in my life, even some of the most obscure lessons I learned without thinking about it (like learning little bits of Arabic during a tumultuous relationship years ago), have found a niche in this tiny community in which I now reside. My loss, my pain, and my fear are all receiving closure in finding a purpose. 

I spent many years bitter, frustrated, depressed, and angry because I had no idea why it seemed that I had been handed the royal flush of shitty cards. I watched as other people my age and years younger started families, successful businesses, and changed the world at dizzying speeds while I struggled just to get out of bed some days. I often felt useless and completely defeated. How could I or my life ever amount to anything when from the time I was born, it seemed that my existence was a mistake?

 But here in this time and place, it somehow all makes sense. 

That's not to say that I've arrived, or that I don't have days when I wonder what the bloody fucking purpose of it all is, but after nearly 3 decades, I can say with genuine sincerity that I'm grateful that I was broken so many times because without that, I wouldn't have learned to be strong. 

I can't even begin to speculate what the rest of this year holds in store, but I can say that in only 2 months, these people have already changed my life in ways I will likely not fully understand until hindsight opens my eyes years down the road.

Language Barriers

The students have been here for over a week now. Things that I would have thought would bother me just amuse me- their antics, their attitudes, their varying degrees of defiance and testiness.

I love it. I love their personalities, their quirks, their stories... though, sometimes their stories break my heart. They are a group of survivors- resilient fighters trying to figure out how to live in this world.

And sometimes, they're also just goofy bratty teenagers.

While discussing my daily schedule with my supervisor, I realized that I don't actually know when I'm working and when I'm not because what I'm "supposed" to be doing is stuff I want to be doing. I had a moment of utter disbelief... "Wait... What? Seriously? That's what my days are supposed to look like?" I mean, obviously there are going to be days where I retract everything I just said; however, after the purgatory that was my last job, even the hard days here will likely pale in comparison because here there's meaning. There are people involved- people who tell stories and speak in a language all too familiar to me. They speak in honest tones of avoidance and detachment that give away the depth behind the facade, and at the same time also speak with open sincerity and willingness to let you into their space. I was surprised by how quickly their affections surfaced with us. They hug, tease, test, challenge and inspire.

I feel lucky to be here in this beautiful place where I will be challenged to grow in ways I would have never imagined a year ago.

The intensity of the schedule and environment leaves me little space to process some of the tender areas of my life... so here I am, putting it out there into the safe anonymity of the internet.

About 6 weeks ago I decided to reconnect with the adoption agency my parents went through in efforts to find a translator to make communication with my biological father easier. One would think that after over 8 years of trying to communicate between English and Korean, I'd have learned that this process is never easy. This is a language I don't understand, and honestly, I'm not sure that I want to learn it for a multitude of reasons. There's a surreal element to my life- this whole other family, culture, and identity that almost was, but wasn't, but somehow still is. Pieces of myself are contained in this family literally a world away- and I don't even know how to speak to them. It's frustrating.

Years ago when I first initiated contact, the agency sent me a letter that my father had written 3 days after I was born. It sat in the archives for over 20 years. I learned that my parents intentionally wanted me to be sent to some place where I would stick out- where it would be clear that I did not belong so that I would look for them one day. And they succeeded. My entire life, I have not once felt as though I belonged anywhere, so I've traveled, wandered, and searched for the transient meanings of "family" and "home."

Here in the mountains, I'm exploring what those things mean. I'm exploring the concepts of identity and belonging with and through the students. I'm exploring parts of myself that I had to hide away because I wasn't strong enough to deal with them before.

Before I left Pennsylvania, a few people felt it necessary to remind me that I couldn't run from myself. I was never trying to run away from myself; I am giving myself the chance to know myself in a way I wouldn't have been able to without letting go of my comfortable routines- without facing my fear.

This year will be hard in a lot of ways, but as I'm finding, not in the ways I anticipated. Instead of learning to build walls and defenses, I will need to learn how to let them down while maintaining healthy boundaries.

There is much growing to do, and I'm looking forward to learning the language of it all.

As far as my biological family is concerned, I suspect that, like the rest of my life, the results will be something I would have never predicted.

Are You Having the Right Conversation?

What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean "right" conversation?

Here, let me explain. Up until about 7 months ago, I was having all of the "wrong" conversations. I was depressed and miserable. It's all I thought about. It's all I talked about. My co-workers and I commiserated countless hours about how much we hated our jobs. We talked about how much we hated our jobs when we weren't at work. I even talked about it to people who didn't work with me outside of work. It pervaded every aspect of my life. People say that work is just a fraction of your life, but here's the thing: It's a very LARGE fraction of your life, and if you hate that large of a fraction, it is inevitably going to taint the rest of your life too.

November 2011, I made a decision to gather every bit of resolve I had, stop bitching about my shitty situation, and change my life. I never used to subscribe to the cheesy sounding phrases like, “At the moment of commitment the entire universe conspires to assist you.” (Goethe) or “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” (Coehlo).

"Bullshit." I always thought to myself.

But here I am 7 months after making the decision to blindly step out and accept the consequences of defying all rational sounding logic and reason, and found the need to revise my perception of what I used to dub 'cheesy new agey bullshit.' Since I've begun taking steps to pursue a passionate meaningful path, I've been meeting others who are doing the same- sometimes in the most unexpected times and places. Every one of these connections has had a gift to offer, whether it was another connection, a lead into something that might be interesting/productive (which is how I found and landed the fellowship), encouragment and/or inspiration for my journey.

A friend and I were discussing the parallels in our lives, and I told him what I just told you. His response:

"The universe conspiring? Yeah, I thought that was bullshit, too. All I can say is that I've learned to rethink that. I don't even think it's that cryptic. I just think that when you're NOT having the right conversation and expressing your dreams and interests, then you don't see opportunities that are all around you all the time."

When I read that, I stopped and thought, "Oh my gosh. Without even realizing it, my vocabulary has changed completely." I've (mostly) stopped bitching about my job and now when I speak, it's about the changes I've been making and about the passion I'm purusing. It's about living life to the fullest- I mean REALLY living it, and not just ferverntly swearing you're going to live it after someone dies and forgetting about the resolve a few months later.

Because I stopped stifling myself with my own dark depressing confines, I opened up and am able to have productive conversations with others who share in the desire to lead lives of passionate meaning and joy. Those conversations spark inspiration, hold me accountable, and propel me forward.

So here's a challenge- watch your conversations over the next week. Are they confining and limiting or are they encouraging and expansive? Do you feel depressed and heavy or inspired and energetic? Make an effort to mindfully change the way you speak. Put your dreams and desires out there- they have a way of coming back to you with quality company and opportunities attached.

Give Yourself Room to Grow

As I was watering my hanging plant this morning, I thought about how I had basically just cut off 80% of it a couple of months ago. The vines had become scraggly and the leaves were sparse. I made the painstaking decision to hack off 3 feet of vines leaving only fragments of what still looked fairly healthy. Amazingly, this plant that was but a shadow of what it had been, is now regenerating with completely brand new bright green leaves.

This is a big month for me. This is the final month I will be in the apartment I've loved for over 6 years. I have been getting rid of a lot of things over the last few months, but this month is when it all really happens. About 80% of my things will be sold off, given away, or maybe stored. As much as I would love to say I have no attachment to my stuff and this is just a step in the process, the reality is, I do have an attachment. These things are what made my apartment a cozy little home- a sanctuary from the world when it got to be too much. These are things that have been gifted to me over the years, things I've acquired during my travels, things that I've had since I was a child....

But in that moment of sadness I was feeling, I happened to decide to water my plant. My plant reminded me that sometimes we have to cut back what isn't growing anymore. We have to make the painful but necessary decision to give ourselves room to grow, even if that means we have to prune away first. It's not just about the physical possessions, it's about the spiritual, emotional, and intellectual too. I am sorting through everything I've literally and figuratively accumulated over the last few decades of my life in order to give myself room to grow and become a better and healthier version of myself.

In the end, what initially appears to be a setback is actually setting the foundation for more growth and progression than would have been able to happen if I didn't first cut back what was no longer serving me. It's a difficult process because I have to give up what had become so predictably comfortable. By clearing space to grow, I'm also increasing capacity to learn and love. Paul Coelho wrote in 'The Alchemist', "...when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too... Because when we love, we always strive to become better than we are."

I want better of myself so that all that I love will benefit. What good am I to anyone or anything if I'm so attached to my comfort that my existence is just an excuse for everything around me to stagnate too?

Here's to taking a step back in order to fly forward.