moving

this season of overwhelming transition
of applying for full-time jobs
of trying to figure out where my things will go
of trying to figure out where i'll move
of the parents selling their house
of cousin moving to spain
of moving

i feel most at home when things are in motion, but not when everything is in the air
i feel most confident when i'm the one doing the moving, when i'm still in control, when there's still some kind of pattern
i feel calm when i have an idea of where i'll go and what i'll do

and this is the opposite of that
this time of upheaval
this time of disorder
this time of uprooting, yet again
this time of unknown

this time of learning to trust
this time of learning to lean again
this time of learning to fully rely


this time of leaving on a really, really long road trip through the woods and mountains
because i don't know what else to do -- but keep moving

understanding and building bridges

the difficulties of
understanding,
sharing,
trying to explain something that means so much to you,
but to others - doesn't often enter their realm of thought.
the difficulties of
trying
to take something you're learning and apply it.

the difficulties of getting people to understand.
the difficulties of trying to cross boundaries.
the difficulties of getting conveying importance and priorities.

something i realized this weekend: sharing new, important, ground-breaking things with people is really, really hard. and getting them to understand and appreciate these new things even a fraction as much as i do is even harder.

you can't force people to understand. you can't make people to listen. you can't manufacture feelings. but you can try to break it down, try to ease the transition, spend time sharing, and learn to understand yourself.

it's different, when you're constantly surrounded by people who love the same things you love. fighting for the things you love. tackling the things you love. understanding the things you love. it's different, when, for a weekend, you're temporarily surrounded by people you used to know, who you used to spend hours with, who you used to learn with, who are now in a different place with different priorities.

how do you attempt to cross that space? to have the people you love understand the things you love? how do you build the connection? how do we build bridges?

cement

a friend shared this post with me the other day -

"i got this tattoo back during a time where life was storybook reality, a seemingly silver screen type of tale. it was the calm before the storm. and suddenly, the ground shook. but it turns out, in the uprooting of a life, you can learn that all along you weren't planted in any soil. instead, you were planted in concrete - you were sturdy, but you couldn't grow. these days, it sits clever on my arm - a loud statement, but a quiet promise - to be always clinging to bigger ways of being who & how i am. always ready for God to pluck me out of fake soil i plant myself in and bring me back to ground that will grow me." (thanks @kathhhgrifff for the wise words and @amanduhbrowning for sharing them with me)

and this concept of being planted in fake soil rocked and rattled me. this whole life experience - of moving to a foreign country, moving to a new state, moving to a new career, moving to a new place, always moving. i had always described this feeling, this urge to be uprooted, to move, to plant fledgling roots, to never stay too still as change. as development. as advancement. as improvement. as evolution. as healthy.

but this is the first time i've considered that some, a few, of the places i've planted myself and tried to grow - were not conducive to growing. they were cement. they were a desert.

they were not for living things.

recently

recently: big changes have been happening in the lives of my friends. one moved to new zealand, a few got engaged, others are thinking about phd's. i'm trying to make it through this semester. but it makes me feel a little stuck. a little stagnant. like i need to move again, break free, get going. it makes me feel like i've been here too long and that i, too, need a big change.

and donald miller said some really cool things in his book "through painted deserts":

"and so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. my hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God."

and a lot of his words are about changing, moving on, shining out. a lot of his words are about the courage to leave. but i think it's equally strong and beautiful and forceful to learn to stay and to let others leave. which is so, so hard for me to do. to stay and watch others go. to stay and watch others experience. to stay and watch others.

here's to a season of staying.

blur

the end of summer has been a blur

i spent the last week of july in traverse city spending time with family and celebrating leah's wedding
i was in minneapolis for a few days
i flew to chicago for chelsea's birthday and morgan's wedding shower and spent time in the city
i was in minneapolis for a few days
i drove to meet the parents in mitchell, south dakota and we saw the corn palace, endless fields of sunflowers, mt. rushmore, a meteor shower in wyoming and ended in billings before continuing on to missoula to see marshall. we drove everything backwards, through yellowstone, the beartooths, and i drove the farthest by myself
i was in minneapolis for a few days
i drove to chicago, to grand rapids, to traverse city and back for morgan's bachelorette party this past rainy weekend of food trucks, ice cream, wineries, gossip girl, dinner, and celebrating

i'm in minneapolis for an entire week and a half until i'm back to traverse city
this season is a blur of good things, and road trips, and airport layovers, and seeing friends everywhere

it's a good blur

learning

summer has been a blur of lunches outside, days by the lake, happy hour on patios, working sometimes, classes sometimes, being inside as little as possible.

i finished three summer institute classes - intro to gis (geographic information systems), how to make cool maps of data; ethics of vaccines, when can we make choices for the public and when is it appropriate to trust the public to make the right decisions; and planning for urgent threats, having a plan for when basically everything could go wrong in a disaster situation.

i love this. this time of learning and exploring. this time when i soak it all in and gobble it all up. this time when everyone around me is invested in their education and all we want to do is know everything and see everything and experience everything. i'd forgotten how much i love learning and being surrounded by people who also love learning - especially when they want to learn the same things and we all learn together in the same direction.

but i also love being around people who are learning in different ways. i love being around people who aren't sure and their exploring is different. like people who have just moved home or have just started something new or are trying to figure out how to spend the rest of their days here. i love getting coffee and catching up with these people, wishing there was more time to wander and explore with these people, wishing i could learn alongside these people. realizing how much of the same ground you've covered with these people. and seeing the beautiful, tangible, glowing things they bring to the friendship - especially when what they're learning is in a different direction.

there's something brilliant and lovely when there are many methods of learning and many ways of sharing it with others. like time, or notes, or stories, or pictures, or over coffee.

half an epidemiologist

this seems to be a trend - losing track of time, filling every second, forgetting to blog. in korea, blogging was a release for me, putting things and feelings and emotions and experiences into words, taking the time to reflect on everything. and now i'm already done with my first year of grad school and i'm half an epidemiologist and time. just. flew. 

since february: i flew to chicago for a girls weekend, i turned twenty-five, we road-tripped through michigan to the lake for spring break, i found oberon release day parties in mpls, we danced to judah & the lion, morg came for a visit, my master's project development started, we celebrated birthdays, we went to the conservatory for some green, we spent earth day at the zoo, we went to a twins game, and i got a new job - and all of this was squeezed between my 15 credit hours, 10 hours of internship, and 20 hours of work at the coffee shop. i am most successful when i fit things in, when everything joins together, when it doesn't seem like there's enough time. 

and now, heading into summer - we celebrated being almost master's by camping and hiking and exploring duluth. we spent time on the edge of cliffs, along lake superior, and wandering rooms of a spooky mansion. we made s'mores around campfires on cold nights. and we slept soundly and contentedly like sardines. 

looking forward - to working at the food protection and defense institute writing case studies about heat waves, droughts, and floods. discovering the cascading impacts of the disasters and the effect they have on the global economy or food supply. taking classes on GIS, emergency management, and vaccines. already spending every free moment outside by the lakes being in the sun. 

i've begun to realize how much i miss korea. the freedom, the mountains, the food. i miss traveling hours by myself on trains, rendezvousing in seoul on busy side streets eating grilled cheese and drinking green juices. i miss the bustle of the big, big city. i miss the quiet of the countryside and the rice paddies. i miss having a roof to nap on. i miss the kids, and my co-teachers, and my friends. i do miss it. i didn't love it, not while i was there, and not as i look back on it - but i loved what it gave me: freedom, courage, strength. i loved that i was brave. i loved that i was bold. i loved that i was different. 

i'm making an effort to be bold again, to go to the lakes, to go to traverse city, to see the people i haven't seen, to be wild. i'm trying to be uncomfortable, independent, and adventurous. to be open and free and willing. to work on cultivating peace and being content and exploring the corners of where i am now. i'm trying to be amazed again. like i was in korea. by grocery stores, and trains, and mountains, and green, and asia, and kimchi. 

and i realize i am amazed, here. by the people - how they think, how they experience, how the see things differently. how they feel. how they are. the people here are what amaze me, the people i study alongside are really, really cool. they're adventurous, and they've traveled the world, and they love infectious diseases, and they want to do really public health-y things. they've come from all over, but they all meet me here and share with me here. and i am impressed by them. and i look forward to another year with them.

to a summer of weekends in the woods, in yurts, in tents, around fires. to days in classrooms, in cubicles, in the field. to pushing ourselves and stretching ourselves and growing ourselves and learning ourselves. to everyone doing really amazing things this summer. 

february

it's been two months.

in those two months: spontaneous trip to colorado, finals, road trip to chi and then home, blissfully busy weeks in michi, back to mpls, working week, school started again, and now we're three weeks deep.

this semester: 15 credit hours, internship, working, training for a marathon (?), saturday classes, trying to keep up. i find that i'm most successful when i think i'm in over my head. when i think i'm going to fall behind, when i think i'm going to get lost in the madness, when i don't save time for simple things - but make time for them.

what these first few weeks have taught me: there's something really pleasant about going to bed early and waking up early and rushing to the coffee shop to open for the day. i like starting my days there - with coffee, and mostly happy people, and the bustle of service. people like it when i give them coffee early in the morning. i'm remembering that sundays are sacred. for rest, and community, and catching up. i'm realizing friday nights are my favorite. the most reckless - like dinner parties, and birthdays, and korean drama and disaster movie marathons. and that spending time (outside) with friends is the most important.

where to now: planning more road trips, cheap flights to chicago, spring break along the shores of lake superior, summer time, and weddings (!!)

whirlwind

the month of november has been a blur.

i worked almost 24 hours in a weekend (between friday, saturday, and sunday).
i had two big exams on the same day the following week and spent monday, tuesday, and wednesday studying.
i had a good friend fly in the night of the two big exams and we played all weekend.
and then everything caught up to me, and i was couch-ridden for a few days last week (luckily it was a slow week because the last few weeks haven't been).

and now this weekend was pleasantly normal. with brunches, and trips to mall of america, and relaxing evenings with friends, with late mornings, and thoughtful salads, and now a long afternoon at canteen studying for my exam tomorrow on infectious diseases.

and: i find myself craving a real job. an 8-5, monday to friday job. a job that doesn't involve exams and homework. a job that doesn't overlap with my weekends, or at least has a consistent schedule.

when in reality, i'm really just looking forward to my new classes next semester. when i start taking epidemiology and infectious disease, and climate change and global health. when in reality, i'm nervous about the next week and thanksgiving and not going home and nim's anniversary and tumbleweed's anniversary and a lot of things i'm going to have to struggle through.

but there are sweet things too, things i'm incredibly thankful for - like packages from korea, and brownie waffles sent from michi to minne (thanks, aunt char!), and working full days at the coffee shop, and writing papers on things that interest me, and the prospect of having time to sending letters, and overcast days, windy days, cold days, days with snow!

happy week of thanks, all.

changes

it's november. and my three month anniversary back in america. and today, i slowed down. and i think a lot of things hit me, overwhelmed me, and the weight of the upcoming week dawned on me. this last week was refreshing and full of understanding. a friend from korea was visiting his sister and made time for me four out of six days. and it was pleasant being reminded that i wasn't alone and that there were still people who understood me and korea and kimchi and the magic of mountains and exploring. i've been missing that - because i'm in a new place and school and people and everything is changing, and i've forgotten what it's like to slow down and talk about the two years in korea and traveling and seeing everything i could. i'd forgotten what it was like to look back instead of forward, to remember and reminisce, to stop planning for a bit and take time to look out the big windows and watch the rain (turned snow).

so i'm trying to savor things more. but also to be present, and to openly communicate, and to be honest. to not be afraid of what people might think of me, to always be myself, to be expressive, and to be lively and wild and hopeful.

to past and present change and being able to engage them both. to being open and free and willing. to showing up and being the best friend and person i can be.

duluth mystical

duluth is my magic place. i've been three times since moving to minneapolis and it's been a treat every time. the first was when we were driving back from montana and stopped for the night to see superior and to pretend to be in michigan. the second was when uncle dave was here and we drove up to gooseberry falls for the day. and the third was last weekend, camping with kath in a dense fog warning. it was windy and foggy and a little chilly, but was a wonderful welcome into fall. we met mark at a cafe and ate chili and pizzas, wandered around for the afternoon, pitched our tent and walked some trails, ate dinner at the brewery, and sat around the fire drinking beer shrouded in fog and surrounded by nurses who welcomed us into their fold. that night we built our own fire and slept early and long, woke up to more fog, and wandered jay cooke state park with a wild river and winding paths through tall, tall trees. there's something about this place that reminds me of a home and a place of sanctuary and safety and relief.

a friend asked me over coffee last week to describe my experience in korea in one ten-word sentence. the only thing i could come up with was 'it was interesting' and that in itself can't explain it. it was wonderful, yet incredibly lonely. it was wild, and incredible, and i met some amazing people, but i almost always missed home. i missed the woods, and camping, and was thrown into cities and millions of people and empty mountains. i tried foods i'd never heard of and missed mac and cheese and mashed potatoes and thanksgiving foods. i explored corners and met locals and made good friends at school. i walked everywhere or rode trains or rode buses. i slept on floors, in piles, on blankets. in the woods, in hostels, in pensions, rarely in hotels. i climbed mountains and stared at oceans and touched trees. i found a wonderful part of myself there. i grew into my adventurous self there. i love what i learned there. so no ten-word sentence could ever capture the depth of my experience there, the things i saw, the things i learned, the things i gleaned.

it was interesting and that's only the beginning.

#gradschool

i now have two weeks under my belt as a grad student in minnesota. i've been home from korea a little over a month. a lot has changed, not much has stayed the same. and i've kept myself busy. i'm worried about repatriation and adjusting again. i'm worried about getting into ruts and slowing down and running out of fuel. so for the last month i've been constantly moving.

i flew home and was up north to my lake as fast as i could be. i moved to minneapolis and jetted off to montana with marshall for a week. i had orientation and flew home for em's wedding in the backyard. we had our first week of classes and i headed to the woods for a weekend of crisis simulation. we've had another week and tomorrow, uncle david and mark come for a weekend of sportsing (twins and lions) and fall colors. i haven't stopped moving, and don't foresee doing so in the near future. and i'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing.

i've read a lot of articles about moving home, returning stateside. i've read a lot of articles about missing things and people and lifestyles. i tried to prepare myself for the worst and for the best. so i think it's good that i'm in a new place with new people exploring new corners. but it's also hard, because i don't have people to rely on or old friends who know me well. there's always a reason to keep moving here.

but minnesota and grad school have been what i've needed. i needed the structure of classes and studying. i've needed the benefit of riding my bike to school most days. i've needed to go out of my comfortable box to befriend people. i've had to reroute and explore more. i've had to walk longer and accidentally get off bus stops too early. i've had to take the bus to the train to the plane for a weekend home. i've had to ask people for help and feel silly when i wander around lost.

as for classes, i've had biostats, and epi methods, and pathophysiology. we discuss issues in environmental and occupational health. i've attended global health seminars and have infectious disease socials penciled into my calendar.

this past weekend i participated in a humanitarian relief crisis simulation. we were in the woods of cannon falls on various ngo teams assessing needs and evaluating what could be fulfilled and asking for donations for future projects. it was a stretching weekend, a weekend of growth and learning and discomfort. it was a wild combination of stress, anxiety, excitement, understanding, and appreciation - just what i imagine a real-world criss situation would look like. i gained insight into the world of situation flow, leadership, cooperation, and working alongside strangers-turned-team in a constantly-changing environment. i am excited to now have an informational foundation for my pursuit of humanitarianism, and to have gleaned mountains of learning and growth from this course and to have one graduate credit under my belt. we networked with the cdc and the red cross and doctors without borders and the refugee committee, and we worked together to solve an incredible problem.  

i recently took up rock-climbing. recently, as in i've gone twice and haven't made it to the top yet. but there have been improvements and friendships and community made at the rec center. people who encourage and uplift and motivate me to push myself out of my comfort zone on the bouldering wall. allowing me to be afraid to fall, but to fall anyway. and after sore arms begin to heal, i'm ready to try again. 

and i think this is a reflection of my experience here in mn so far. i've been stretched and pulled and molded, again. i've been uncomfortable and unsettled. i've been surrounded by english speakers and still struggle to communicate and find commonalities. i don't have to fend for myself as often, but i do find myself relying on others more than i would like. i've been overwhelmed by the number of tomato soup options at the grocery store and the surplus of fresh vegetables and fruit (so much so, that i keep overbuying and can't eat them all). i've uprooted myself from the things that were comfortable in korea and in michigan and i've moved myself to a new spot, a new place to call home, a new corner to explore. i'm starting to form my fledgling roots here in this place with my avocado plant (who is still alive). so the initial painful shedding of excess and of the old comes again, as it always does when i'm uprooted. there's a bit of soreness in the exploring and wondering, because i know that somewhere else i could be comfortable and safe and stable. 

so here's to the next few weeks: of reaching the top of the purple path on the bouldering wall, trying all the bus routes successfully and unsuccessfully, meeting new people every day, being uncomfortable, meeting wonderful people and making wonderful friends, and riding my bike three out of four school days a week. 

minneapolis

from michi to minne.
i've now spent two nights in my new apartment in the middle of uptown minneapolis (specifically the lynlake neighborhood).

i spent a blissful two weeks at home: full of time spent up north on the lake and at home watching ncis and running errands and sorting everything and dropping off a lot of unnecessary stuff at the salvation army and making tshirt rugs and planning for the future and getting biggby caramel iced coffees every. day.

monday, we started driving at 8am and instead of going through chicago, we decided to drive to the UP. it was a caravan of the monster moving truck and the tiny mini cooper. we listened to podcasts and 7 habits of highly effective people and my chill music. we drove all around lake michigan, through forests and small towns, stopping at picnic tables for snacks.

we arrived to a rainy tuesday minneapolis morning. we parked the moving truck in the alley behind the apartment and carried loads through the exterior door in my bedroom (eek!). we dismantled the heavy sleeper sofa and dad and i carried it up the back steps and stuffed it through small, old doorways. and i got settled and nested quickly.

erin came at 10pm that night after my parents left and after we had a picnic lunch from the midtown global market on the floor of my table-less apartment with my new housemate, gabriela.

erin and i talked to the wee hours then crashed and slept in because we were both on vacation in a new city. we started the morning at urban bean coffee down the street and then walked around the neighborhood looking at cute yoga studios and cafes. then we drove downtown to target and ended up at target field. she helped me pick up things for the apartment before going to the midtown global market to see its cool-ness. then we relaxed at the apartment before eating at galactic pizza. we ended the night at the lynlake brewery listening to live music with g.

this morning, we tried the coffee shop across the street - dunn bros and then rode bikes 20 miles - to lake calhoun, to the new vikings stadium downtown, across the mississippi river to campus, and back along the midtown greenway - i can get almost everywhere via bike paths, it's really nice. we went grocery shopping for veggies at cub down the street and now that they're organized in the fridge, erin left and is on her way to chicago. lucky me that i had a friend to share my bed and explore with me in my new city! i'll post pictures soon. this place is already wonderful.

hello, minneapolis.

goodbyes are hard

today was my last day of classes with my gregarious third graders. we danced and played games and at the end, i told them it was our last class and they got sad and asked if the next teacher would play games and be as fun as i was (i was flattered, of course). we took pictures together, and they got out their phones for selfies, and i gave them my email (still waiting for the first), and they asked if they could fit in my suitcase, and i made them promise to visit me in america. 

they wished me well in korean, told me to keep my health and be happy. i told them to travel and to explore. it was one giant group hug. (and when i saw them at lunch, they asked me why i was still in korea). even though we had ups and downs, they were some of the most joyful learners and creative adventurers. 

it's the beginning of missing them and their cute little faces. 

this is the end

there are very few days between now and when i'll take the bus to the airport to fly home. there is only one more monday after today, playing with the kids and crossing language barriers. there are very few days left of kimchi, hot soups in the summer, humidity that makes my hair absolutely wild, being called a foreigner, and trips on the train to seoul. this is the end. the end of my time living in korea. the end of my time climbing these lush mountains and smelling the salty seas. the end of traipsing through rice paddies that are wonderfully green. the end of having misunderstandings and miscommunications every day. the end of being the only blondish brown in school. the end of this little apartment with my treadmill and pink bathroom and no counter space. the end of teaching english to my little nuggets. the end of quite an adventure.

there are many things i'll miss. many i won't. but this place has been so good to me. so good for me. this place has stretched and smoothed and roughed up and changed me. i've gotten stronger and bolder and wilder. i've grown into myself, i think. i've been forced to be alone, a lot. i've been forced to be uncomfortable, to feel unsteady, to stay connected, to turn to nature. i've climbed a lot of things, seen far and wide, tasted everything under the moon (and some i will never ever taste again). i've tried silkworm larva and tentacles and sea creatures. i've enjoyed radish and kimchi and seaweed soups.

but i'm ready for a change, and i've been ready for a few months now. but these months of readiness have been good, too. they've helped me detach and part ways with things. i'm not being ripped from this place, i'm slowly digging out each root carefully and painstakingly. i started saying goodbye a long time again. probably around the end of february, when the last semester was starting and everything was changing. when i started trying frisbee, and running races, and making more effort to go places. i'm mostly packed now, a lot of my things are in my suitcase. my walls that were once full of quotes and pictures and tapestries are now bare (as bare as korean wallpaper can be). there isn't much left to fit into the small spaces that remain.

the next month: soon, i'll move home, just to move away again. this time to minnesota to start school again. for a while, i was worried about repatriation and reading every article i could get my hands on. i was worried about coming back changed and finding things hadn't (or had) changed as well. i was worried about not being able to relate, and people not trying to relate to me (or not being able to). i was worried that i'd be overwhelmed by it all. and i was, when i went home in june. i was eavesdropping on everyone, and i couldn't choose a tomato soup from the many, many options in meijer. i was overwhelmed by people understanding me, but not understanding my experiences. not knowing what i'd seen, or what i'd eaten. so i'm throwing myself into a new thing: public health school. in a new city, in a new state. i think it'll be good for me to not stop moving, because if i stop or slow down too much, i think i'll worry, and stress, and overthink things. the transition wouldn't be smooth.

moving to: the bike paths of mpls, the lakes around my apartment, the brewery down the street, the outdoor concerts, the fresh air, the hours of studying, finding nooks and crannies that feel comfortable, exploring something unknown again, to ride public transportation and commute on green paths, see old friends and make new. and welcome people into my new place.

michigan

from june 12 to 23 i was fortunate to make a return stateside for the first time in a year and a half. the occasion for this brief jaunt to the homeland was for the union of my beloved erika and bob. i was actually a little nervous during the days preceding the trip home: there was a mers outbreak in korea, i thought i might miss my early flight, i was going to be in an english speaking country, i was going to be surrounded by people i loved and hadn't seen in far too long.

i slept at jodi's the night before my flight and we went to see jurassic world. i woke up early and caught the bullet train to the airport and without issue, made it to my flight on time. the flight was 12 hours too long, squished between the window and a muscular army guy. i didn't sleep much and between the brief sleepy stints i watched john oliver, and unbroken, and downton abbey, and tried to rest as much as possible. i had a short layover in detroit before catching my connection to chicago. the short flight was made even sweeter by the lovely merna who sat next to me.

i landed in chicago midway to two great friends: diana and morgan driving in circles waiting for me with a bright sign and a too-big picture of my face. i was so excited i couldn't cry. they drove me to downtown and took me to a fantastic pizza place with pitchers of oberon, to coffee shops we stumbled into for energy, to their favorite green parks. i saw their apartments and snippets of their lives there. we drank craft beers and danced to music and ate popcorn. we were joined by a few others and MON and went to a bar for some social time and ridiculous dancing to acoustic versions of shut up and dance.

the next morning, i woke up (too) early to catch my bus to grand rapids. diana dropped me off and shortly afterwards i figured out i had gotten the ticket for the wrong day and i was stuck in downtown without a phone and without any idea of where diana lived. i managed to turn on my korean phone and diana returned to rescue me. (so early, bless her soul). because the next train and bus didn't leave until the evening and i was in a rush to get to gr for the bachelorette party, my awesome friends arranged to meet in the middle. darling diana drove me to sawyer, mi where darling morgan picked me up off the curb. God bless gooooood good friends. seriously. i could cry right now thinking about how great they are.

we made it to brunch only a few minutes late and were greeted at marie catrib's by the whole bach crew. it was so good to see everyone, to hug the bride, to eat a blt, and to laugh together. then i got biggby, which was another glorious reunion. and finally, we drove up north to the lake house to get ready for the evening's festivities. we wore black and had flower crowns and the bride looked dazzling in her white daisies. dad acted as chauffeur and drove us to the new brewery in suttons bay and on into dinner in traverse city. after dinner, we wandered from bar to bar, collecting friends and strangers. we saw katy and ate hot dogs in the rain before heading back home.

sunday was slow and peaceful and sweet.  we had breakfast at the 45th parallel and spent some time lakeside in the shallows. we saw big fish and tried out the paddle board and spent a sunny afternoon doing lake things i loved. dad drove me home that evening to see mom (and even let me stop at a rest area).

monday, i got shots at the doctor, and saw aunt carolyn, and ate mediterranean, and made a trip to eddie bauer, met aunt char, and dined on fresh veggies. tuesday was beauty day and ethiopian. and i got my eyebrows done, my hair cut and colored, and rode my bike over to biggby to meet erin (because we both didn't have cars). wednesday, we ran errands, and went to world market, and met the walko's for dinner at sansu. thursday, we celebrated grandpa's birthday and i drove to holland to see dr. barney and mrs. barney and anne before venturing to grand rapids and erika to help with wedding things. friday, i drove into the city and met briggitta before getting nails done with the girls and going to the rehearsal dinner. emily and i drove the astro van around construction and through holland and bonded over being late and long trains. saturday was WEDDING day and we woke early to drive to camp geneva to get our hair done leisurely and to soak in the day. the bride looked radiant and was shining and i couldn't help but cry over how beautiful she was and how happy bob looked. it was truly a day of celebration. sunday, we brunched with cousins and i met little lucia in detroit and i began packing again. and monday, the last day in michi, mom drove me to detroit where i lunched with aunt char before slowly getting to the airport for my long flight.

beautiful moments:

thank God for special days with my home team and tribe, for days spent on sunny lakes and in cool water, for days exploring this beautiful green earth, for time invested, for time well spent, for catching up, for long hugs and big smiles, for airport greetings and airport send offs, for road trips and covering ground, for seeing all of michigan, for great lakes, for biggby coffee, for biking, for cozy beds and parents houses, for yards and grass, for green things growing, for rainy days too, for trips home, for years passing, for tears of joy, for standing by someone in their marriage, for celebrating life, for big cities and woods and mountains and lakes, for new adventures and feeling comfortable, for experiences.

but most importantly, for reunions that bring tears and shouts and laughter, feelings that can't be put into words, and hugs that last forever.

triangles

living as a triangle. triangles are my favorite shape. and recently, i read an article in the wall street journal about the struggle with the "dark side of coming home" and "repatriation blues." right now: my thoughts of home are golden and fuzzy. everything is full of sun beams and frolics through my old haunts. but in the back of my mind, i'm worried about coming home. expecting everything to be the same, and having everything be different: especially myself.

in this article, i was first introduced to naomi hattaway who wrote a blog called "i am a triangle" and has since made a facebook group of which i am a small, small part (really, a fly on the wall: reading stories of other expats (read: immigrants) roving the world in search of their home again).

but i found her thoughts so fascinating: she compares us to evolving shapes. we begin as circles in our circle country with other circle beings, constantly doing circle things. something inspires us to move and change and we fly to a square country with other square beings, constantly doing square things. and we being to adjust. our rounded edges become sharper. we adjust. we start speaking the language, and doing what they do. we adjust. we assimilate (maybe not in appearance), but in actions and way of doing things. to the point where we become sharper and eventually a triangle. a mix of the two. we'll never be a square, because we were once a circle. but never again will we be a circle, with rounded edges and rounded ways. forever, we will be this triangle that doesn't quite fit in either space or country.

and i'm not the only one, of course. there are many of us: these triangles. we flit about from country to space to place. gleaning good things and bad from everywhere we land. enter, one of my favorite words: variegated. i love this word. it means "exhibiting different colors, especially as irregular patches or streaks" or "marked by variety." i like how it sounds, and how it's spelled, and especially what it means. it means something beautiful, composed of many different (very different) parts. making one unique, magnificent, remarkable whole. now, i am variegated. now, i am triangular. i am shapes and words i never thought i would use to describe myself. but i'm excited to start. and to explore this adventure of "coming home" and defining home for myself. because what is home? is it the certain plot of land? or the people you call your tribe? or the place where you blend in? or the place you feel uncomfortable?

home: the place where hugs are sweeter and longer and coffee flows freely and smoothly and it's always autumn on the lake with bonfires burning brightly. here: laughter and joy reign.

seven days without milk

a week ago, i skyped my mother and she had two very interesting insights (out of many): brew coffee at night and put it in the fridge and it magically becomes iced coffee in the morning, and to refrain from drinking milk every day (lattes, i tell ya). there were many reasons i needed to experiment with this. lately, i haven't felt 100%. merely 65% or even, dare i say, lower. i haven't felt great, i've been moody, temperamental, not as joyful. and right now, i'm sick.

i also decided to give up bagels each morning, because they weren't as healthy as i was imagining they were.

and sunday, i watched the documentary "fed up" and decided to steer away from soda and sugar (as much as i can).

and so begins an experiment: without milk, bagels, soda, and sugar. guiding in the direction of whole fruits and veggies, and things i can blend or mix (because i'm still not touching my stove top).

today: i felt more energetic, joyful, happy even. i sang, i danced around, the angry adjummas couldn't bring me down. it was an impossibly perfect and beautiful and sunshiney tuesday. i don't completely chalk it up to this lack of milk in my life (man oh man do i miss it and the lattes that go along with it). but i think it affects my body negatively in overconsumption and i must learn, again, to consume it in moderation.

while i trek through this experiment, i'm continuing to build mileage for the 15k coming up in may and for ultimate frisbee each weekend. i'm toying with the idea of running the twin cities marathon in october (anyone with me?) and mentally checking routes between potential apartments and school.

in this battle with and against my mind and body, i fight for consistency, muscles, confidence, and assuredness.

tired

this weekend was more exhausting than most. i played three out of four frisbee games in cheonan, then trekked up to seoul for the hillsong united concert. it was nonstop movement, to the point of falling asleep on the bus, but i will cherish it.

saturday, we had our first games of the weekend, we lost both (that's four now). that night we had a hug party with all the other teams at our team sponsor, cantina. lots of hugs and team loving. sunday, we had a rainy game at 12 and we beat the gwangju uprising! i had to leave before the last game against seoul train, but from the messages i got: we won in universe point ! this is the equivalent of sudden death. go cheonan cheonwons!

we got the 2:10 bus to the express bus terminal, hung out in a coffee shop, and took the subway to olympic park for the concert. the night of worship began and as a community from many nations, we recited the apostles creed in korean and english and sang as one. it was an incredible experience. people were dancing, people were singing, people were rejoicing together.

this is my favorite hillsong united song:

so this weekend was full, but fulfilling. filled with all good things. things with teammates, things with strangers, always surrounded. something i needed. to be surrounded by people hugging and dancing, joyful and exuberant. as i start shipping things home, looking for a one-way ticket to america, planning suitcase travels, preparing. it's important to be present with those around me, too. to be involved, to be steady in this time of upheaval. to not rush through these last months in this special country with these dear friends. as much as i'm looking forward to being back home, or at least close to home, and close to my tribe and home team, i'm beginning to realize i will have to say goodbye to things here. goodbye to the mountains, the busy-ness, the hoards of kimchi, the subway system, slowly i will have to start cutting ties and weaning myself from korea. transition is a weird thing. a thing that is both bitter and sweet. so for now: i will cherish the experiences i have each weekend, with my team and my friends here. i will look for the good in everything, the bits that make it special. i will slowly start developing a future in grad school in minnesota. i will eventually book tickets. i will eventually ship and pack everything. eventually i will be gone again. to somewhere new. your grace abounds in deepest waters, lord.

spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

things lately

things that have happened in the last two weeks:

1. i played in my first volleyball game against another school. they get rather competitive. i had to wear my special gym clothes and i was assigned a position. the ladies and i won the first two games and bested the opposition. but the co-eds lost and according to korean custom, it's not who wins the most, but who wins last that is actually the winner. i beg to differ.

2. i had my first two ultimate frisbee games on sunday in daejeon with my team, the cheonan cheonwons. it was the first time playing together as a team, and most of us have never played before (we're also ranked the lowest in all of korea based on skill-level). we lost, both. the first one by a lot, the second by a little. in the second game, i almost caught a hail-mary touchdown? point? i don't know what to call it? but the frisbee came in at a weird angle and hit me instead. next time, next time. it was a learning experience, and i hope i can apply my new skills in our four games this weekend!

3. my parents went to a foreign country without telling me (who do i call in case of emergency?).

4. student funnies: i was teaching my fifth grade students about punctuation. they cannot remember the name of the "exclamation point" and instead call it the "escalator potato," i let it slide. and today, we were hearing a story about shakespeare, and i asked if anyone knew his whole name: a student tried to read the korean-ization of his name in their books and ended up with "alien shakespeare."

5. a favorite writer recently -