well, i've thrown myself from the wagon at the advent of my Chicago girlfriend coming into Seoul. she now sleeps next to me on this (her last) night in town. it might have been stupid for me to forfeit my choice of "clean living" during her sojourn here, but at the same time, i'm a realist and i'm working towards a sustainable lifestyle--and not just one of austere "purity".
i feel messed up though. this week, i eschewed all of the healthy behavior i had committed myself to and i am left feeling a little empty, now that all of my lusts have been indulged in. my girlfriend knew that i had made these commitments--moreover, she attempted to curtail my behavior--but, that is nonsense.
i mean: what is an indulgence if you only go 1/2-way? if i'm going to indulge, i'm going to fully enjoy the experience. [maybe this is why i need to fully stop indulging.]
additionally, i do not do or not do anything for someone else. i make decisions for me. otherwise, the choices don't stick because they aren't significant to ME. duh.
anyway, i kinda knew it would come down to this again. i'm kinda glad i had a chance to wildly run around in this dirty playground again because it reminded me how fruitless it is to play on all of this rusting equipment.
frankly: the idea of doing another cleanse this week gives me a headache, but i know i should do it. i need to refocus and recenter myself. i need to get back to the heart of what i want my life to be about. i can't be there if i'm feeling unhealthy and/or out of control.
there is something beautiful that happens when you deny yourself something you want. often, what you are denying yourself has some delicious aspect of unhealthy (which makes the self-denial worth anything to begin with).
also, through the slight panicky moments of desire, there is a strange sense peace that you experience as you realize that you ARE the master of your lusts.
you CAN be strong.
you can be BRAVE.
YOU can do things that are hard.
your state of being can be BETTER than before.
it might be stupid to be so dramatic about denying myself certain foods and a few other indulgences this week--but this is part of a spiritual journey for me. outside of the foods, this week, i'm going to workout everyday, start a painting i have in mind, daily practice my uke, and read a few chapters of a few books.
all of that might sound a little ambitious, i know--but in my state of weary, it actually makes me hope and feel excited for some of that Rest i've been craving.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
inked for the 7th time
i now have a fairly substantial back piece covering about a 1/3 of my back.
the 2.5 hour experience was intense, and i still have to go back to get the color filled in. EJ (my tattoo artist) and i conferenced extensively about her proposed designs before she finally set up the needles and the ink.
the tension built in my muscles as i waited for the process to begin. i knew it would not be pleasant. when i lay facedown onto the tattoo bed, i took a few deep breaths to calm/prepare myself for the pain.
EJ smirked, "you ready?"
i groaned and gave her a sad face, "i'm never ready."
she buzzed the ink gun at me a few times, "ok. well, i'm starting."
as the needle began puncturing the skin of my lower back, it was almost a relief. EJ is a perfectionist and a great artist. she pressed the needle in carefully so it wasn't *so* bad for about the first 1/2 hour. however, when she began working on the shading on my side, the pain suddenly spiked.
"oh Mary," EJ paused in her work when a little squeak escaped my throat, "this part is probably really sensitive, isn't it?"
i took a deep breath, "yes. 갑짜기 신각헤졋어." (literal translation: 'it suddenly got serious').
she laughed kindly, "well, i don't want to make things too hard for you. so, now that i've started on this part, i should do this all in one pass... do you think you can handle it?"
i nodded and laughed helplessly, "the way that i see it, i figure that i'll have this ink in my skin for life... feeling this sharp, intense pain seems right to me."
"i agree," she smiled, "ok... get ready..."
the next 45 minutes was excruciating as she pulled burning fishhooks through my skin. internally, i squirmed and screamed. i felt trapped. tortured. i wanted to push her the fuck off of me and run. but i held my breath and grit my teeth.
getting this tattoo was pretty spontaneous, but it wasn't at random. i've recently been feeling quite refreshed and happy in life. i've quit smoking, drinking, and staying out until the early morning hours (for now). i'm sure these factors play a major role in moving me into this good place. i don't feel any compusion to be at this or that party anymore. i just don't feel like i'm missing out. i'm investing in my closer friends, i'm getting involved in fruitful activities, i'm exercising regularly, and i'm eating healthy.
i feel fabulous.
i'm also done with random sexual encounters. not that i've had that many, but 2010 had a string of months where i succumbed to my lusty appetites whenever i was in the mood. all i needed was a decent-looking guy who was confident enough to flirt and proposition me to a casual introduction to his penis.
sure, there was a temporal pleasure i experienced (sometimes) while getting naked and sweaty with him or him or what's-his-name, but i either felt disgusted with myself or some shade of dark the following day. i got stuck in that pattern for several months, despite those dark feelings.
so, as i gritted my teeth against the searing, raking of needle against my skin, i blasted the tribal beats of one of my favorite bands into my ears and reflected on why i was putting myself through this pain...
it is for the pleasure of Life.
for the fact that--even though it took me a while to get here, i am here.
it is for the purpose of permanently marking myself and my commitment to this: the act of trying to be the best of exactly who i am with my bizarre brains. this is what God intended, sometime before the dinosaurs were duking it out.
He's always wanted ME to break free. to fully be who i am. He's always been drawing me out, sometimes whispering, sometimes yelling--agape love and unconditional acceptance.
i've always heard these messages, but never received them--throughout my sheltered youth, my sometimes troubled drugged/drunken adolescence and adulthood, my angsty married years, and the past two years in my post-divorce playground.
this history--my history, may describe me, but it doesn't define me. i sometimes get so wrapped up in my failures and Flaws that i forget that i am inherently valuable. to Someone.
SO, here's the ridiculously obvious conclusion: i don't need to be anything or anybody. i can simply be Myself. somehow, that is good enough. and *that* is lovely.
thus, the form of my 7th tattoo:
i chose the main subject to be flora, because it is living and organic. towards the base of the piece (which, ironically is the highest point of the tatt) is the symbol for love. along the branches are the symbols for joy and peace among cherry blossoms.
to be honest, the cherry blossoms weren't exactly *my* idea, but EJ really thought they would look good in the design, so i consented. afterall, i figured that getting a tattoo is a dynamic, artistic process for both artist and canvas.
why love, joy, and peace?
a few weeks ago, i asked a guy i just met: "what do you want to be when you grow up?" he expounded upon his future plans at some length. his ideas were somewhat specific and elaborated. what struck me was that he was able to name things; he seemed pretty clear about what direction he would *like* for his path to take.
though he never reflected the question back to me, i still thought about how i am very unsure about what the future will bring. moreover, i do not have any concrete idea about what i would like it to bring.
but, i still know what i want to be when i grow up.
i want to be someone who really loves people. i want my life and my actions to be reflective of Love. i also want to be a person who regularly experiences joy and peace. those kinds that are Real. those secret kinds that are not reliant upon purpose or possessions or circumstance.
these are the pretensions that got me through the waves of panic that hit me while EJ pressed that blazing, inky needle to my side.
the 2.5 hour experience was intense, and i still have to go back to get the color filled in. EJ (my tattoo artist) and i conferenced extensively about her proposed designs before she finally set up the needles and the ink.
the tension built in my muscles as i waited for the process to begin. i knew it would not be pleasant. when i lay facedown onto the tattoo bed, i took a few deep breaths to calm/prepare myself for the pain.
EJ smirked, "you ready?"
i groaned and gave her a sad face, "i'm never ready."
she buzzed the ink gun at me a few times, "ok. well, i'm starting."
as the needle began puncturing the skin of my lower back, it was almost a relief. EJ is a perfectionist and a great artist. she pressed the needle in carefully so it wasn't *so* bad for about the first 1/2 hour. however, when she began working on the shading on my side, the pain suddenly spiked.
"oh Mary," EJ paused in her work when a little squeak escaped my throat, "this part is probably really sensitive, isn't it?"
i took a deep breath, "yes. 갑짜기 신각헤졋어." (literal translation: 'it suddenly got serious').
she laughed kindly, "well, i don't want to make things too hard for you. so, now that i've started on this part, i should do this all in one pass... do you think you can handle it?"
i nodded and laughed helplessly, "the way that i see it, i figure that i'll have this ink in my skin for life... feeling this sharp, intense pain seems right to me."
"i agree," she smiled, "ok... get ready..."
the next 45 minutes was excruciating as she pulled burning fishhooks through my skin. internally, i squirmed and screamed. i felt trapped. tortured. i wanted to push her the fuck off of me and run. but i held my breath and grit my teeth.
getting this tattoo was pretty spontaneous, but it wasn't at random. i've recently been feeling quite refreshed and happy in life. i've quit smoking, drinking, and staying out until the early morning hours (for now). i'm sure these factors play a major role in moving me into this good place. i don't feel any compusion to be at this or that party anymore. i just don't feel like i'm missing out. i'm investing in my closer friends, i'm getting involved in fruitful activities, i'm exercising regularly, and i'm eating healthy.
i feel fabulous.
i'm also done with random sexual encounters. not that i've had that many, but 2010 had a string of months where i succumbed to my lusty appetites whenever i was in the mood. all i needed was a decent-looking guy who was confident enough to flirt and proposition me to a casual introduction to his penis.
sure, there was a temporal pleasure i experienced (sometimes) while getting naked and sweaty with him or him or what's-his-name, but i either felt disgusted with myself or some shade of dark the following day. i got stuck in that pattern for several months, despite those dark feelings.
so, as i gritted my teeth against the searing, raking of needle against my skin, i blasted the tribal beats of one of my favorite bands into my ears and reflected on why i was putting myself through this pain...
it is for the pleasure of Life.
for the fact that--even though it took me a while to get here, i am here.
it is for the purpose of permanently marking myself and my commitment to this: the act of trying to be the best of exactly who i am with my bizarre brains. this is what God intended, sometime before the dinosaurs were duking it out.
He's always wanted ME to break free. to fully be who i am. He's always been drawing me out, sometimes whispering, sometimes yelling--agape love and unconditional acceptance.
i've always heard these messages, but never received them--throughout my sheltered youth, my sometimes troubled drugged/drunken adolescence and adulthood, my angsty married years, and the past two years in my post-divorce playground.
this history--my history, may describe me, but it doesn't define me. i sometimes get so wrapped up in my failures and Flaws that i forget that i am inherently valuable. to Someone.
SO, here's the ridiculously obvious conclusion: i don't need to be anything or anybody. i can simply be Myself. somehow, that is good enough. and *that* is lovely.
thus, the form of my 7th tattoo:
i chose the main subject to be flora, because it is living and organic. towards the base of the piece (which, ironically is the highest point of the tatt) is the symbol for love. along the branches are the symbols for joy and peace among cherry blossoms.
to be honest, the cherry blossoms weren't exactly *my* idea, but EJ really thought they would look good in the design, so i consented. afterall, i figured that getting a tattoo is a dynamic, artistic process for both artist and canvas.
why love, joy, and peace?
a few weeks ago, i asked a guy i just met: "what do you want to be when you grow up?" he expounded upon his future plans at some length. his ideas were somewhat specific and elaborated. what struck me was that he was able to name things; he seemed pretty clear about what direction he would *like* for his path to take.
though he never reflected the question back to me, i still thought about how i am very unsure about what the future will bring. moreover, i do not have any concrete idea about what i would like it to bring.
but, i still know what i want to be when i grow up.
i want to be someone who really loves people. i want my life and my actions to be reflective of Love. i also want to be a person who regularly experiences joy and peace. those kinds that are Real. those secret kinds that are not reliant upon purpose or possessions or circumstance.
these are the pretensions that got me through the waves of panic that hit me while EJ pressed that blazing, inky needle to my side.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Monday mania and the Korean man
another day, another round.
i was awoken to my phone ringing. i dazedly looked at the name and thought, "Melissa? who the hell is Melissa?"
"hello?"
"Mary?" said an anxious voice.
"yes?"
"Mary, where are you?"
i squinted at the clock and groggily tried to tap into the voice recognition portion of my brain, "i'm at home." and then it dawned on me. MELISSA. oh shit. it's MONDAY! i sat up and shook the cobwebs loose from my synapses.
"Mary, are you sick?"
"no, no! i'm not sick. i just didn't hear my alarm. i'll be at work as soon as possible."
she sounded nervous, "the vice principal was asking about you."
*that* was ominous.
it's mid-terms week, and actually, there is no real reason for me to be at work, sans the Korean work culture that lends to the notion that one's physical *presence* in the office is important. i smirked as i made my bed and sauntered into my bathroom. i hoped that i wasn't in too much trouble, but i dunno--i've been fighting the indifference that seems to come with this SMOE job.
the school itself has minimized the importance of the work that i do, and though i put in all of my efforts while in the classroom, outside of the classroom, i have just done my best to keep my head bowed and my eyes trained on my computer screen.
i don't listen to the announcements during the teachers' meetings anymore--not because i'm lazy or do not care--it's because i only understand about 80% of what is going on. that last 20% of comprehension is crucial to actually receiving a message, so i've taken to writing or reading or checking my email during that time.
well this morning, i got to the office about 45 minutes late, and i made a bee-line for the VP's desk. i was a little surprised at how it went down. Korean office politics severely highlights my problem with the Korean man.
my VP's voice was unnecessarily loud and boomed through the teachers room, "you didn't have class yesterday. you didn't have tests yesterday. why were you late today?" i cringed because i could sense that the entire staff was waiting for my response.
"yes. i'm really really sorry--"
"you're really very sorry?" he chuckled mockingly--imitating my bad Korean grammar.
i grit my teeth, but kept my voice in a submissive half-curtsy, "yes, i just didn't hear my alarm this morning."
"no? why not? why did you go to bed late?" is that your business?
"well, i was volunteering."
"what do you mean?" he leaned forward. a glimmer of curiosity interrupted his gleeful spanking.
"i do volunteer work on Sundays."
"tell me about this. what kind of volunteer work?" his voice shifted down to a normal volume.
"i go to Seoul Station with some friends--you know how there are a lot of homeless people there?"
he nodded slowly, "yes--there are many homeless people in that area."
i folded my hands in front of me,"my friends and i buy food and then distribute it until late at night."
the VP gave me a penetrating look, "and so that's what you did last night?"
i tried not to roll my eyes, "yes. i was very busy yesterday."
he leaned back in his chair. i could see that he was trying to decide whether/not he was done toying with me.
he was.
i returned to my desk.
however, all day, i had people coming up to me asking me if i was "ok". it was a little confusing. about half-way through the day, i discovered that at precisely 8:13am, the VP made a huge racket throughout the teacher's office about my absence. he ran up to Melissa and loudly questioned her about where i was, as if i were intentionally taking advantage of the system. he made sure that all of the employees could hear him.
the teachers who knew me felt compelled to ask what had happened because the VP had made such a scene about it. when i realized what a production was made out of my tardiness, i was a little embarrassed--but, actually more amused than anything.
i know i'm probably pointing this gun at my own foot, but this Korean 눈치 ("noon-chi") bullshit is just not working for me. and i think it's ridiculous for the Koreans to expect for me to *get it* when they themselves don't even get it.
the VP has been hinting that he wants me to be the editor-in-chief of the high school's English newspaper (ermm. who's going to read this?) but he hasn't clearly stated what he expects of me.
it's funny because when he alludes to tasks like translating pages of complex Korean into English, i giggle and cock my head to the side and politely explain the limitations of my linguistic abilities--MUCH to his exasperation. he's getting a little pissed that i'm not just DOING what he wants, no matter what the sacrifice (like his other employees). BUT i am not his bitch. he's not my boss--the Korean government is.
i know this is obnoxious to say, but despite my Korean face, i'm an American. i'm not going to guess what he wants. that shit's confusing.
so, here i am: wide-eyed innocence and fast, precise articulation in English. he gives up eventually, in frustration.
*giggles*
bang BANG! ouch! that's my foot!
i was awoken to my phone ringing. i dazedly looked at the name and thought, "Melissa? who the hell is Melissa?"
"hello?"
"Mary?" said an anxious voice.
"yes?"
"Mary, where are you?"
i squinted at the clock and groggily tried to tap into the voice recognition portion of my brain, "i'm at home." and then it dawned on me. MELISSA. oh shit. it's MONDAY! i sat up and shook the cobwebs loose from my synapses.
"Mary, are you sick?"
"no, no! i'm not sick. i just didn't hear my alarm. i'll be at work as soon as possible."
she sounded nervous, "the vice principal was asking about you."
*that* was ominous.
it's mid-terms week, and actually, there is no real reason for me to be at work, sans the Korean work culture that lends to the notion that one's physical *presence* in the office is important. i smirked as i made my bed and sauntered into my bathroom. i hoped that i wasn't in too much trouble, but i dunno--i've been fighting the indifference that seems to come with this SMOE job.
the school itself has minimized the importance of the work that i do, and though i put in all of my efforts while in the classroom, outside of the classroom, i have just done my best to keep my head bowed and my eyes trained on my computer screen.
i don't listen to the announcements during the teachers' meetings anymore--not because i'm lazy or do not care--it's because i only understand about 80% of what is going on. that last 20% of comprehension is crucial to actually receiving a message, so i've taken to writing or reading or checking my email during that time.
well this morning, i got to the office about 45 minutes late, and i made a bee-line for the VP's desk. i was a little surprised at how it went down. Korean office politics severely highlights my problem with the Korean man.
my VP's voice was unnecessarily loud and boomed through the teachers room, "you didn't have class yesterday. you didn't have tests yesterday. why were you late today?" i cringed because i could sense that the entire staff was waiting for my response.
"yes. i'm really really sorry--"
"you're really very sorry?" he chuckled mockingly--imitating my bad Korean grammar.
i grit my teeth, but kept my voice in a submissive half-curtsy, "yes, i just didn't hear my alarm this morning."
"no? why not? why did you go to bed late?" is that your business?
"well, i was volunteering."
"what do you mean?" he leaned forward. a glimmer of curiosity interrupted his gleeful spanking.
"i do volunteer work on Sundays."
"tell me about this. what kind of volunteer work?" his voice shifted down to a normal volume.
"i go to Seoul Station with some friends--you know how there are a lot of homeless people there?"
he nodded slowly, "yes--there are many homeless people in that area."
i folded my hands in front of me,"my friends and i buy food and then distribute it until late at night."
the VP gave me a penetrating look, "and so that's what you did last night?"
i tried not to roll my eyes, "yes. i was very busy yesterday."
he leaned back in his chair. i could see that he was trying to decide whether/not he was done toying with me.
he was.
i returned to my desk.
however, all day, i had people coming up to me asking me if i was "ok". it was a little confusing. about half-way through the day, i discovered that at precisely 8:13am, the VP made a huge racket throughout the teacher's office about my absence. he ran up to Melissa and loudly questioned her about where i was, as if i were intentionally taking advantage of the system. he made sure that all of the employees could hear him.
the teachers who knew me felt compelled to ask what had happened because the VP had made such a scene about it. when i realized what a production was made out of my tardiness, i was a little embarrassed--but, actually more amused than anything.
i know i'm probably pointing this gun at my own foot, but this Korean 눈치 ("noon-chi") bullshit is just not working for me. and i think it's ridiculous for the Koreans to expect for me to *get it* when they themselves don't even get it.
the VP has been hinting that he wants me to be the editor-in-chief of the high school's English newspaper (ermm. who's going to read this?) but he hasn't clearly stated what he expects of me.
it's funny because when he alludes to tasks like translating pages of complex Korean into English, i giggle and cock my head to the side and politely explain the limitations of my linguistic abilities--MUCH to his exasperation. he's getting a little pissed that i'm not just DOING what he wants, no matter what the sacrifice (like his other employees). BUT i am not his bitch. he's not my boss--the Korean government is.
i know this is obnoxious to say, but despite my Korean face, i'm an American. i'm not going to guess what he wants. that shit's confusing.
so, here i am: wide-eyed innocence and fast, precise articulation in English. he gives up eventually, in frustration.
*giggles*
bang BANG! ouch! that's my foot!
happy
i'm in the middle of writing a quick itinerary of my comings and going in Japan, but i had to pause instead and write:
i'm extremely happy right now.
life is so good. phew! i can't remember feeling *this* happy and optimistic about my journey.
i know i feel this good b/c this isn't just a 'high' that'll fade. and hey--i'm realistic. life'll definitely bring me things that'll make me cringe and cry. inevitably, life is full of intense pain and well--shit happens to everyone. but i'm actively talking to God again--and He's doing something mysterious in my insides.
i am experiencing an impossible feeling. there is no other way to describe it.
let me put this into some context.
the phrase: "relationship with God" is such an overused phrase that it has lost meaning. and honestly, it sometimes sounds like something a crazy, over-spiritualized, self-righteous Bible bangin' jerk would be haranguing about. but hell, i must speak of this--and i suppose you could call me one of those jerks.
i'm not going to be as arrogant to say that i've figured out what a "relationship with God" is, but i feel like i've suddenly found myself in a place where i'm experiencing it.
for many years i was lost in the land of the "do's" and "don'ts".
this wasn't it.
then, for a while, i was lost in the opposing jungle of eschewing all of the rules. i figured, if God loves me with an agape love, my actions ("good" or "bad") were unimportant.
this also, wasn't it.
finally, i have found myself in a place where i'm not thinking about any of that stuff, and i'm simply focused upon just getting to know Him. i've been trying to live inside this framework for the past few months--just doing my best to talk to God. i've been trying to *really* love people and learn what it means to be content.
somehow, this has spontaneously lead me into falling in step w/ the "do's" and "don'ts"--(BIZARRE!) i have not been trying to be *good*, but suddenly i find myself naturally being *good*.
I KNOW: the idea of "GOODness" is a very confusing and controversial concept--but it IS there. it floats around dynamically, nebulously--but it is a real thing. i would contend that most people--irrespective of belief system--can see and feel what "good" is, even if they cannot define it. even if they don't know where it comes from.
i have been startled by these random avalanches of joy. i know it sounds like hyperbole--but WOW--i have rediscovered the secret again, and it feels amazing.
i know that there is a plan for my life, and it's a good one. and it will make me happy. God likes me to be happy.
i know that there is a purpose for my existence on this planet, even though i'm not sure what it is. i'll figure it out at the right time.
and i know that whichever direction i go in these worn sneakers, God is holding my hand, walking with me. it is this--exactly this--that floods my insides with a crazy peace.
i'm extremely happy right now.
life is so good. phew! i can't remember feeling *this* happy and optimistic about my journey.
i know i feel this good b/c this isn't just a 'high' that'll fade. and hey--i'm realistic. life'll definitely bring me things that'll make me cringe and cry. inevitably, life is full of intense pain and well--shit happens to everyone. but i'm actively talking to God again--and He's doing something mysterious in my insides.
i am experiencing an impossible feeling. there is no other way to describe it.
let me put this into some context.
the phrase: "relationship with God" is such an overused phrase that it has lost meaning. and honestly, it sometimes sounds like something a crazy, over-spiritualized, self-righteous Bible bangin' jerk would be haranguing about. but hell, i must speak of this--and i suppose you could call me one of those jerks.
i'm not going to be as arrogant to say that i've figured out what a "relationship with God" is, but i feel like i've suddenly found myself in a place where i'm experiencing it.
for many years i was lost in the land of the "do's" and "don'ts".
this wasn't it.
then, for a while, i was lost in the opposing jungle of eschewing all of the rules. i figured, if God loves me with an agape love, my actions ("good" or "bad") were unimportant.
this also, wasn't it.
finally, i have found myself in a place where i'm not thinking about any of that stuff, and i'm simply focused upon just getting to know Him. i've been trying to live inside this framework for the past few months--just doing my best to talk to God. i've been trying to *really* love people and learn what it means to be content.
somehow, this has spontaneously lead me into falling in step w/ the "do's" and "don'ts"--(BIZARRE!) i have not been trying to be *good*, but suddenly i find myself naturally being *good*.
I KNOW: the idea of "GOODness" is a very confusing and controversial concept--but it IS there. it floats around dynamically, nebulously--but it is a real thing. i would contend that most people--irrespective of belief system--can see and feel what "good" is, even if they cannot define it. even if they don't know where it comes from.
i have been startled by these random avalanches of joy. i know it sounds like hyperbole--but WOW--i have rediscovered the secret again, and it feels amazing.
i know that there is a plan for my life, and it's a good one. and it will make me happy. God likes me to be happy.
i know that there is a purpose for my existence on this planet, even though i'm not sure what it is. i'll figure it out at the right time.
and i know that whichever direction i go in these worn sneakers, God is holding my hand, walking with me. it is this--exactly this--that floods my insides with a crazy peace.
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