For someone who purports to like change and growth as much as I do, I'm really lousy with change. Case in point: it's 3:45am on moving day, and I've been up for the last hour: what started as thirst for me and hunger for Elliot, grew into tossing and turning - thinking about a situation at work that doesn't sit right with me, and escalated into a full-on panic attack thinking about our move ("so-many-things-to-do-mode" that really just masks sadness and a sense of loss), and now has ebbed into finally just opening my computer to get all the angst from my head through my body and out my fingers -- helped with a half-eaten jar of Justin's maple almond butter and sparkling water drunk in a wine glass because all my other glasses are still sitting in the sink.
Whew. Was that all just one sentence?
I smile with compassion at my younger self, full of angst and anxiety on the day this blog started -- on my own moving day, closing the door to 3E -- ready to meet Tyler in Seoul. How was she to know everything that was to come since? -- all captured fleetingly into the pages of this blog. It's like the Rumi quote I just read (note to self: just google Rumi at the first sign of any burgeoning panic attack):
"Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?"
And of course, this move is nothing like that move. It's simply north of the river. A twenty minute cab ride, barring any traffic.
And yet.
It's a pretty fair assessment that after a first initial high of Tyler's offer (which we received on our way home from Cuba -- "yes, it's time we live internationally again!"), I dragged my heels on this move to Seoul...pretty much since Tyler signed in December through the spring and early summer. The moment that turned that around was a spur-of-the-moment long weekend trip to the Hamptons, just pre-summer mob (thank you, Airbnb). We were on the beach and, too cold to go into the water, started to "draw" out the life we envisioned in Seoul, using sticks in the sand (our masterpiece below).
It was a flurry of drawing and visioning and creating... and reminded me of how much agency we have to co-create the future we want. Much of our drawing centered on our apartment -- a three bed-room that included a meditation/yoga room and a nursery. We'd live near water (see that squiggly river on the right?), maybe look out onto some mountains, be walking distance to work for Tyler and a co-working space and yoga studio for me... and light. Lots and lots of light with big open windows. And maybe a nice city view of Seoul.
This is the first time I've actually dug out that photo since coming to Seoul (thank you abundance of time when it's 4am). I smile thinking about how this apartment is all that we envisioned (save being walkable to Samsung)... and then some (there's the universe winking again). Wanting a blend of city and nature, our apartment is a ten minute walk to Seokchon Lake in one direction, the Han River in another direction, and Olympic Park (Seoul's equivalent of Central Park) in a third direction; with amazing 180 degree views of both the city and the mountains in the distance. I remember the first few nights, just sitting with Tyler on the floor of our living room (it would be weeks until we finally bought furniture) in the dark -- all the lights off, just looking at sparkling Seoul around us and taking it all in.
And as I write this, all the angst and anxiety I was originally feeling melt into a feeling of calm and gratitude. Gratitude that we've lived in the nicest place we've ever lived for the last two years. Gratitude for the apartment that finally made Seoul feel like home. Gratitude that we not only know our neighbors but are friends with them (pic from last weekend below); and for the amazing group of expat new moms who have become my community here. Gratitude for the home we first raised Elliot in. Gratitude for this idea that people can somehow "draw" their future and live into it. The list goes on and on...
What I'll miss most is my meditation room, our bathtub with the luxurious whirlpool jets, and looking out into the lake from my writing table (aka our dining room table that we never use as one). Oh and all the storage space (seriously, we were still discovering hidden shelves and closet space after a year living here). Tyler will likely most miss the night city views, the modern Asian toilets (even our toilets have remote controls and came with instruction manuals), and the "suite" we/he created when he removed all the doors between our bedroom and the nursery.
But what most matters is coming right along with us up north. And plus like Rumi says:
Thank you, 2903. You've helped make this a pretty incredible two years.
And with that, the sun is just about rising...
Whew. Was that all just one sentence?
I smile with compassion at my younger self, full of angst and anxiety on the day this blog started -- on my own moving day, closing the door to 3E -- ready to meet Tyler in Seoul. How was she to know everything that was to come since? -- all captured fleetingly into the pages of this blog. It's like the Rumi quote I just read (note to self: just google Rumi at the first sign of any burgeoning panic attack):
"Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?"
And of course, this move is nothing like that move. It's simply north of the river. A twenty minute cab ride, barring any traffic.
And yet.
It's a pretty fair assessment that after a first initial high of Tyler's offer (which we received on our way home from Cuba -- "yes, it's time we live internationally again!"), I dragged my heels on this move to Seoul...pretty much since Tyler signed in December through the spring and early summer. The moment that turned that around was a spur-of-the-moment long weekend trip to the Hamptons, just pre-summer mob (thank you, Airbnb). We were on the beach and, too cold to go into the water, started to "draw" out the life we envisioned in Seoul, using sticks in the sand (our masterpiece below).
It was a flurry of drawing and visioning and creating... and reminded me of how much agency we have to co-create the future we want. Much of our drawing centered on our apartment -- a three bed-room that included a meditation/yoga room and a nursery. We'd live near water (see that squiggly river on the right?), maybe look out onto some mountains, be walking distance to work for Tyler and a co-working space and yoga studio for me... and light. Lots and lots of light with big open windows. And maybe a nice city view of Seoul.
This is the first time I've actually dug out that photo since coming to Seoul (thank you abundance of time when it's 4am). I smile thinking about how this apartment is all that we envisioned (save being walkable to Samsung)... and then some (there's the universe winking again). Wanting a blend of city and nature, our apartment is a ten minute walk to Seokchon Lake in one direction, the Han River in another direction, and Olympic Park (Seoul's equivalent of Central Park) in a third direction; with amazing 180 degree views of both the city and the mountains in the distance. I remember the first few nights, just sitting with Tyler on the floor of our living room (it would be weeks until we finally bought furniture) in the dark -- all the lights off, just looking at sparkling Seoul around us and taking it all in.
And as I write this, all the angst and anxiety I was originally feeling melt into a feeling of calm and gratitude. Gratitude that we've lived in the nicest place we've ever lived for the last two years. Gratitude for the apartment that finally made Seoul feel like home. Gratitude that we not only know our neighbors but are friends with them (pic from last weekend below); and for the amazing group of expat new moms who have become my community here. Gratitude for the home we first raised Elliot in. Gratitude for this idea that people can somehow "draw" their future and live into it. The list goes on and on...
What I'll miss most is my meditation room, our bathtub with the luxurious whirlpool jets, and looking out into the lake from my writing table (aka our dining room table that we never use as one). Oh and all the storage space (seriously, we were still discovering hidden shelves and closet space after a year living here). Tyler will likely most miss the night city views, the modern Asian toilets (even our toilets have remote controls and came with instruction manuals), and the "suite" we/he created when he removed all the doors between our bedroom and the nursery.
But what most matters is coming right along with us up north. And plus like Rumi says:
Thank you, 2903. You've helped make this a pretty incredible two years.
And with that, the sun is just about rising...
No comments:
Post a Comment