finding something

i awoke to my alarm @ the audacious time of 5:45am on Saturday to go on a rafting trip w/ random strangers.
for the past two weeks, i've had some serious difficulties falling asleep. this is not new for me, but my emotional turbulence made the experience far far worse.

however, Saturday marked a full week since i'd done some deep introspection and sorting out and i was ready to do something good, something productive, for myself. i finally felt ready to try to grow again. it's been a while (if ever) that i've felt refreshed/renewed enough to really do this. and not in a superficial kind of--i'm going to take a class about something i'm interested in/i'm going to lose weight/i'm going to learn a new language--type of way. it's a bigger, more paradigmatic kind of shifting that's beginning to happen.
God. i know how pompous that might all sound, but remember: i'm learning how to do life again. it's actually only been about 7 months of my literally moving on. the initial months here in Korea were wild and novel and exciting and different. but, the realities of being 30, single, and in a bustling metropolis finally ground down on me.
here it is again. life. this isn't a hiatus. i can't just playplayplay and do whatever/whenever the hell i want.

for many years--close to 20, i was alive, but living in a hazy drifting state. i never felt quite real. i often felt like a wooden doll. moving to the rhythm of shifting gears. who was i? who am i? this is a brightly painted and contrived question, but i ask/ed it nonetheless.
i think i'm "there"--some of the puzzle pieces have clicked into place, but i'm not ready to describe it all out loud. some of it's too humiliating to even think about, but i'm grateful, even for these small self-revelations.

so when my alarm went off at 5:45am yesterday, i groaned, but opened my eyes feeling peace.
You are loved deeply, you silly girl. go and get up.
i changed into my swimming gear, my shorts and a tank, thrilled about the crispness of the Summer morning, thrilled about the quiet early dawning of a Saturday, thrilled that i am deeply loved.
i walked through the Yonsei forest. the familiar green canopy. the morning mists rising above the trees. i felt joyfully alone.
i am made of flesh and blood again. this felt new.

i spent three hours on a bus and ate lunch w/ a bevy of strangers of every ilk. there were a lot of 'getting to know you' conversations and i laughed and cracked jokes w/ them. some of them didn't get my commentary, but this made it all the more funny and gave me clues about who i should avoid. (you know, being 30 really ain't so bad. i'm smarter than the 22s and slightly younger/prettier than the 42s.)

when we got onto the river, i was immensely glad that i decided not to wear my flip flops. the rocks were sharp and the river flowed along pretty quickly. no one paid any attention to the cutie rafting instructor b/c he couldn't speak English. i felt bad for him so i began to translate. this resulted in that oh-so-sweet Korean familiarity which ended w/ him tossing me into the river a few times. i didn't make it easy for him though. and i made sure he came w/ me every time.

the backdrop was amazing. the verdant Summer ripeness of hills, the immense craggy rocks that towered around us, the stark white herons that flew above us.

we came upon a 20 foot cliff where we could dive from. i've only cliff doved once before in Maui off a 10 foot drop. even this was a bit of a harrowing experience--not knowing what was going to happen after the leap, almost expecting a foot to crash against unseen rocks below the surface, and the moments of exhilarating, irrevocable free-fall.
for some reason, while i gazed 20 feet below at the flowing river, i had no anxieties. only delicious expectation. hope.
my breath caught as i lept. water cooled sun-soaked skin. greenish light of the surface. speeding back upwards.

so there i was. floating on my back in a Korean river. gazing at the mists that staggered backwards against the mountains against more mountains. i felt deeply loved.
life. there it is.