Follow Your Bliss

What is bliss to you? Is it your family? Your friends? A vast ocean? A deep endless forest? An infinite night sky? A feeling you get when there's nothing more you want because you can hear your own voice above the masses and know you are finally on the path that resonates with your own sense of reason?

Yesterday I spent the day with my friends in Boulder, CO meditating on bliss, making amazing new connections, eating an absolutely sublime brunch, then hiking a lush trail while contemplating what I had meditated on earlier.

What is bliss to me? That. Everything that happened yesterday filled me with a sense of renewal, joy, peace, and complete contentment. It was another confirmation that my, at the time, terrifying decision to change my life was the right one.

A giant smile spreads across my face every time I remember that I regained my freedom by taking back the responsibility for my life. I am no longer living by what other people think I should be doing. I cannot be controlled by money, social expectations of where I should be, or false hierarchies of power built on fear.

Back in June I wrote about putting your dreams and intentions out there in Are You Having the Right Conversation? and 7 months later I am still finding how imperative it is to never stop having that conversation. As I've said so many times before, I love travel, cooking, writing, and making new connections with people. In the past several months, I have been meeting people who share those passions because I've been putting it out there. I talk about it, write about it, dream about it, and post about it on Facebook (apologies to my friends whose News Feeds are flooded with it).

Yesterday, after many failed attempts to hang out, I finally connected with a new friend who shares the same love of travel, adventure, meaningful conversations, and meeting new people as I do, and next week we will discuss how we can collaborate to take those things out into the world.

How freaking exciting is that? These things would likely have never happened had I stayed in my windowless cube working to have enough money to mask my misery.

I can hardly wait to see how these events all play out over the next year. I have feeling that a new adventure is brewing on the horizon.

"When Nothing is Certain, Anything is Possible"

Last trimester flew by, and we're already well into January. I have an entire 7 months here, but I only have 7 months here. I still have no idea of what I want to be when I grow up. My dad just sent me a text reminding me to slow down and enjoy the time I have- something will come to me. It's hard for me to not want to plan it all out, but I have to remind myself to enjoy the moment I'm in and not worry about the ones to come because the reality of life is that the ones to come may never arrive. Aside from that, I also have no idea what unexpected opportunities may lie around the bend. 

My visit home caused me to have a brief moment of considering moving back- I didn't realize how much I had missed my friends and family until I returned. It was like entering a warm room after being in the cold and not realizing you were freezing. But as fate? luck? would have it, a series of events reminded me that I left for a reason. I am on a journey, and I cannot settle until I find those things I addressed in my post (A Few) Things I Learned the Last 3 Months. I made a commitment to myself to give myself the chance to discover all of those things that make me come alive- that give my life depth and meaning. I chose this path, and now I must follow it to whatever end.

I realize I will have many days in the coming months when I will panic about my future, but I know I need to take a deep breath, and let life come as it will. Since I've been here, I've reaffirmed my love of travel, food, training, and writing. Additionally, I've also discovered how much I love building relationships with my students. They make every day worth my fear and self-doubt and give me hope in ways I would have never discovered otherwise. I'm as excited to see how their lives unfold as I am about my own. How will I combine all of these? I have no clue yet. But I'm sure I'll figure it out. Eventually. 

Just Another Heartbreak

Well, I did it again. 

"What?" you may ask.

I allowed my heart to be broken. Again. 

Thankfully, this one was not as dragged out as the last, though I wish it would not have happened at all.  You can tell me all of the conventional trite wisdom like "It wasn't a waste of time" or "You learn a lesson from it," but I have to admit, I'm tired of learning the same lesson. Which makes me wonder what I'm doing to attract the same experience over and over again. 

I bet you're wondering if I'm a relationship hopper, but no. Against reasonable logic, I'm not. I take long periods of time between my relationships so I can re-center, assess what happened, and do my best to not repeat the situation. 

There's clearly a glitch in my system. 

It always presents entirely different with each relationship, but rapidly deteriorates into the same ending.    I'm working on figuring out why. 

That all said, one valuable lesson I have learned through it all is that I'm not nearly as jaded as one (I) would expect from repeatedly having my heart broken, shattered, crushed, and stomped on. I still love openly and wholeheartedly, even if imperfectly. 

Oh, and the other lesson I never get tired of learning? How amazing my friends are. I would never make it through without them. They show me over and over again how blessed my life is.

Today, I feel a little hurt and vulnerable, but I take comfort in knowing that my friends have my back (even from a distance), and knowing that when the time comes for me to break the cycle and find an honest love, I will be ready with an open heart. 

Blood and Water

The last 10 days have been quite a roller coaster of emotions, and I'm still working on processing it all. 

I found a translator to make communication with my biological father easier (well, possible), and it's been relieving and frustrating and heartbreaking all at the same time. When I first found my biological family, the adoption agency had translated a few letters, and it was brought up that they want me to visit Seoul.

Nearly 10 years later, I'm finally entertaining the possibility of actually doing so. The idea of it scares me for several reasons. Heading to a country where I can't even fudge my way through understanding the language because I have zero idea of what the characters mean is the first hang up. Secondly, I have a non-existent sense of direction. How am I going to figure out where I'm going in this incredibly foreign country? Finally, I can conceptually imagine what it would be like to meet my father, mother, and 3 older sisters, but I know without a doubt the actual experience is something I won't be able to prepare for on any level. Then, to top it off, going back to the language thing- I'll be in front of these people who hold a large chunk of my identity and I won't be able to say a word they understand nor they to me. 

But, like my friend said today, "communication is in body language, sharing a meal, spending time with them." I said I wasn't ready. He told me my time is running out. I take for granted that we live in the United States where the way we live and work is vastly different from the way the poor in a country like South Korea work. The reality is that my parents are getting older, they've led hard lives, and their health is already beginning to fail. 

In this case, I don't know that there is a "right" moment- the right moment is me going in spite of my fear, in spite of not feeling ready. The likelihood of feeling ready to meet the blood from which I came is probably slim. So, this year, I won't wait for the elusive opportune moment. I will go visit my biological family and face a history that was, until now, only loosely sketched out on paper.

Unselfishly Selfish

We have a problem in our culture. We seem to believe that doing what's best for ourselves is somehow selfish. Why should I get enough sleep, eat well, have some solitary quiet time, do something that makes me happy when I could be focusing entirely on putting that energy everywhere else? We have effectively bred a culture that feels it must always be on the go, expending every last bit of energy, but for what? To make more money? To have a bigger nicer house? To have a prestigious career? To make sure everyone else's expectations are met? To appear to have the perfect marriage and family?  To look like we're invincibly happy when we're utterly miserable? We're always busy and yet, somehow, still get nothing done.

I had a conversation with my good friend and trainer about her sister who found out she has stage 4 breast cancer who is doing unbelievably (some may even call it miraculously) well, and we discussed how something like that literally forces you to stop and really look at what's important. When boiled down, it doesn't matter how many hours you've worked, how many committees you're on, or how much "stuff" you're doing. Those things aren't going to sustain you when all else falls away. We all believe she is healing because she stopped and realized that she needed to spend more time taking care of herself- all of those seemingly "easy" things like resting, eating well, and exercising are imperative to improving not only our physical, but our mental health. Additionally, and arguably most importantly, she's spending more time with her family. When our lives seem as though they're falling apart, it's the people we love and who love us in return that matter most. I hope that the question I will ask myself at the end of my life will be, "Did I love to the best of my ability?" And even more, I hope that the answer is an unwavering confident, "Yes."

None of this really sounds selfish when you stop and actually think about it, but why then do we feel pangs of guilt  when we ignore the emails and phone calls from work when we're spending time with our families, or when we decide to take an hour at the gym and say, "I should be accomplishing (fill in the blank) task."? There will always be a million and one expectations and "shoulds" hanging over our heads, but if your rationalization begins with "I should..." stop and ask yourself why. Why should you? Why should you sacrifice your one and only life to the things that matter least? Because you want to and it will contribute to a richer more meaningful life that bring you and those you love joy? Or because the ominous -They- expect it of you? 

Over the years, I've learned that we need to learn to be unselfishly selfish. We need to learn to say 'no' to what isn't a positive contributor to our lives and accept only what brings out the best in us, and in turn, we inevitably will bring out the best in who and what surrounds us. 

It's becoming increasingly important that we learn to slow down, be less busy, and love every.single.precious.moment. We can have a glimpse into immortality when we are entirely present in the the here and now because every moment is of infinite worth. 

One Year Ago

One year ago, I started this blog with the intention of documenting my journey from quitting my job to moving halfway across the country. At the time, I thought I would only write here until I got to Colorado, but then I realized that the description of my blog "a blog about finding the strength to start all over again" is something I do nearly on a daily basis- not necessarily on the same scale as the massive uprooting I did last August, but each morning I wake up is, to some degree, a new beginning.

Every day I get to make decisions that will direct the course of my future. 

Every day, every moment, we have the ability to evaluate our lives, our actions, our selves, and assess whether it is something we can be proud of, or if we need to redirect. So often we get into the mentality that we've gotten too far into something to start over, but that's rarely ever true. My 66 year old father, after over 30 years in one career, is now exploring other paths.

So one year into reclaiming control and responsibility over my life, I can say that it has been incredibly lonely and challenging at some points, but the payoffs have only just begun. As we close out another year, I challenge us all to take a look at our lives and our selves and ask, "Am I proud of who I am and what I've done, or do I need to find the strength to start all over again?"

And if you're proud of where you are, find the strength you need to never stop learning and growing.

I said it before I left, and I say it now, I am finally proud of what I'm doing and where I'm going. 

When There's No Going Back

I've been home for 9 days now. It's a strange mix of feeling comforted by the familiar and sad that what I used to be so much a part of, I am now becoming an increasingly vague memory. I knew that would happen. Such is the nature of leaving- the spaces you once filled must necessarily be filled with something or someone else.

Some of them, anyway. There are a precious few spaces that I know will contain only me no matter how long I am gone from them. One of those spaces I am currently inhabiting, literally and figuratively, as I write this entry.

Family and home have always been elusive concepts for me; I've never really felt as though I belonged anywhere. My most comfortable place still possesses an element of disengagement because at the heart of it, I know it's not mine. This home welcomes me with open arms and hearts each time I come back, and here is where I take refuge from the rest of the world now that I don't have my own space, but when it's all said and done, I will depart and their lives will be unaffected that I'm gone; as it should be.

But I can't help but want something of my own- something that subconsciously brings a smile to my face because I know it's where I'm meant to be. That something could be a career, a place, a hobby, a passion... something that belongs with me and me with it.

A few days ago, I received an email in Korean text from my biological father. I plugged it into Google Translate (I know, I know- that does a horrible job, but it gives at least some inkling as to what he's said) and he apparently made some reference to when they gave me up. I've received a few like that before, but this time it felt different- it was frustrating and left me feeling as though a giant chunk of my identity is tied up in another country in a language I don't understand... because it is. It's strange to think that there are people out there who are intimately tied to me biologically, and I can't even have a small talk conversation with them. They wanted me to be sent to a country where I would stick out- where I would know I didn't belong so I would find them one day. Their plan worked- I did find them, and in turn, opened a whole different level of searching for meaning in family, home, and belonging.

Which brings me back to now. Part of me wonders if my search for somewhere to belong is the result of nearly 29 years of knowing I was sent to a place where I would perpetually stick out. In some ways, I'm lucky because without that sense of displacement, I don't know that I would have been driven to travel as much as I have or been as adamant about how important it is to live in a way that makes sense to me, even if everyone else thinks it's crazy.

People have asked me if I regret any of the choices I've made (like quitting my job), and for me, it seems like a pointless question because my choices were made and consequences are playing out. I can't go back and change what I did in the past, and frankly, I wouldn't want to. Of course I'm anxious sometimes because of all of the unknowns I invited into my life, but I also invited infinite opportunity. For example, I know that if I wouldn't have moved to Colorado, my search into my identity wouldn't have the depth it does now. I have no idea where that will lead, but I can only imagine a positive outcome.