I went to an art exhibit recently. It was by Brian Rea, an artist most known for illustrating the NYT’s Modern Love column over the last decade. I really enjoyed his whimsical depictions of connection and relationships. He said in a video in the exhibit, “Reading love stories for so many years, it changes you.” I can only assume it changed his art as well.
But what really resonated with me was something else he said entirely. He had moved to Stockholm, and as someone who wasn’t yet fluent in the local language, he found that his main point of connection with the city was through just observing.
It’s how I’ve often felt since coming (going?) to live abroad. There’s something about the act of observing that instantly makes you into an outsider. Or something about being an outsider that places you into the role of the observer. Either way, you are on the outside, looking in.
When I first arrived in Seoul, I was often worried about doing the “wrong thing.” That because I was a foreigner, I wouldn’t say or do what was typical or expected of normal human interactions here. Eating at a restaurant, taking the bus, ordering coffee, paying for something at the convenience store—all the tiniest things that you don’t think twice about when you’re living in a city you’re familiar with.
I felt the "otherness“ in the way that I dressed, or talked. It was as if I was afraid of being found out, or outed for not being from here. Later on, I came to embrace the feeling of being a “foreigner”—I can’t pretend to be from here, because I’m not.
After all, wasn’t that the whole point? To embrace the unfamiliar, to choose a new path. In the end, I realized it wasn’t just my environment that was novel and strange, it was also me. It’s funny, realizing that I’m just as foreign to my surroundings as my surroundings are to me.
Home is a funny concept right now. It feels very far away. I embarked on this journey knowing that I wouldn’t have a “home” for as long I’m away. That the feeling of “being settled” will last for, at most, a month before I uproot again. That staying in a country is different than living there. I’m just hoping to get to know myself better in the process. To find that “home” in myself.
I’ve been alone a lot over the past six weeks. There’s been a week where I had a friend visit, and I’ve gone to a couple of networking events, went out to eat with new friends a handful of times, even went on a date. Of course, I’ve also been keeping in touch with my friends back home. Other than that, I’ve mostly been by myself.
Sitting down now, and asking myself, “am I lonely?” — I’m a little surprised to realize that the answer is no. Have I felt lonely over the past month? Sure, I have. But right now in this moment, I feel satisfied being in my own company. There’s a sense of inner connection. I’m me, and I’m here, and that’s enough.
lately * ੈ✩‧₊˚
as in: things i’ve made time for, consumed, saved; tabs i’ve left open; books i’ve been reading; and so on and so forth
revisiting this poignant post about paying attention to Palestine — especially now, when it seems to be waning:
How Do You Live? by Genzaburō Yoshino — the book that inspired Miyazaki’s latest (and last?) film, The Boy and The Heron
this Reel on closing the gap between knowing and doing
this postcard, which perfectly sums up my personal life motto
a whole lot of americanos, and convenience store kimbap. if I ever did a “what I eat in a day” video, viewers would be either concerned, or bored to tears
“Never Not” by Lauv — mostly because I have a core memory of this song that I revisit sometimes: sitting on the floor of my empty apartment, not by myself, but right as I was about to leave for the last time. “For as long as I live / and as long as I love / I will never not think about you… Didn’t we have fun, looking back?”
been climbing more regularly lately, because I love the way it makes me feel (strong!) and found out recently that I can do v3’s now! all it took was me moving abroad and having no social plans, hahah
this podcast episode on rewiring your brain—woo-woo stuff aside, I found the neuroscience aspect fascinating (also yes, hello, I would love to stop overthinking)
this profound piece on friendship and how “you never meet the same person twice, not even in the same person. If we have that central belief, then a relationship with another person can never be taken for granted.” I also really enjoy the line where the touchstone of friendship is being seen by them:
about approaching relationships like experiments, and “debugging” them together until you build a home—“By home I don’t mean just the physical structure, but the emotional space in which the coevolutionary loop plays out”—which I take to mean a life where you feel safe, connected, and yes, witnessed, and able to grow in tandem with the other:
∴ current themes I’m thinking through at the moment: connection (in its myriad forms), witnessing (being seen, paying attention).
What’s on your mind lately? Let me know ↓