Journey Envy

Journey Envy

When I was in first or second grade, my first TV set was black and white with rotary dials and an antenna. No buttons, no remote, no cable TV. My childhood clothes often came from Family Dollar, Dollar General (where my mom worked), Goodwill, or on special occasions, Walmart. My first name brand pair of shoes were FILA (which, by the way, is an insanely popular brand here in South Korea). I remember thinking brands like Old Navy, JNCO, GAP, or any novelty item purchased at Spencer’s or later (the forbidden) Hot Topic gave a kid instant notoriety. Even in elementary school, I remember feeling deep sense of being different, long before I became aware of other ways in which my life and experience did not mirror those of my peers.

Travelin' Thru

Travelin' Thru

I just got back Monday from a weekend getaway to Seoul during which I got to see an old seminary friend while also making some new ones (both Korean and foreign). Good food, craft beers, amazing conversations (in both Korean and English), and letting myself get lost in a city that’s becoming more familiar with each subsequent visit. After a month of significant emotional processing and “spoon” recovery, the time away was vital to reclaiming my sanity. While I’ve really only taken time to travel to Seoul since I arrived, it’s a large enough city with enough diversity of people and of experiences that each time still feels new. Eventually I’ll make it to other cities in the country (and other countries as well). For now, there’s another kind of traveling I’ve been focusing on: traveling thru my own story.

Debriding Old Wounds

Debriding Old Wounds

Six months ago, I landed in South Korea and began this crazy adventure of teaching English to Korean elementary school students. I knew before signing my contract that I wanted my time living abroad to be not only challenging but also transformative, particularly in regard to my spiritual well-being. In the spirit of this desire, I heeded some sage advice and sought out a spiritual director I could work with. Based in California, N. (as I will call her) has experience working with creative types, with members of the LGBTQ+ community, and with trauma survivors. Initially, I thought I would just be working with her to reinvigorate my faith and my spiritual journey. What I didn’t realize was just how much trauma, particularly religious trauma, I experienced growing up and how the pain of that trauma is still very much with me today.

Disconnected

Disconnected

For many of my queer friends, the question is often posed to them by non-UMC friends, straight and gay alike, “Why don’t you just leave?” As someone who left the UMC because I could not pursue God’s call on my life into ordained ministry without sacrificing my integrity, I can attest to how frustrating and sometimes infuriating this question is. The question often comes from a place of care and with good intention, but only recently did I realize that it’s basically the same question these queer friends are asked by the conservative members of the denomination: “If you don’t like the way we do things here, why don’t you just leave?”

Hibernation

Hibernation

I thought about this period of winter, of silence and routine, and how the repetition and the quiet are training me to also slow down my need to move restlessly and unnecessarily. I think about what it would be like to stop moving for weeks at a time, not because I’m sick or incapacitated, but because it’s my body’s natural reaction to my environment. It’s what my body needs…

Screen time

Screen time

Social media. Texting. Messaging. Photos. Videos. News. Music. Online dating, or more accurately, online “dating.” Communication, if that’s what we really want to call it. More often than not, it just feels like digital noise, drowning out my soul’s cry for genuine connection. I don’t like writing this. I don’t enjoy admitting how desperate I feel most days for a constant stream of interaction that serves as a poor substitute for heartfelt intimacy. On an average day, I pick up my phone between 80-100 times. That translates to once every 10 minutes, on par with the reported national average.

Going deeper

Going deeper

Thankfully, there are those who have seen beyond my faults and behavioral compulsions deeper to where my True Self lies: in my Belovedness. They choose to have a relationship with me not because I’m special in some grandiose way, or because of what I’m able to do or accomplish. They love me simply because they choose to. In these relationships I’ve found a deeper truth: God loves me, loves all of us, in the exact same way — just because.

Untranslatable

Untranslatable

On any given day, I use Papago, a translation app (far better than Google Translate by leaps and bounds), at least two dozen times. Whether it is to converse with my co-teachers, other colleagues, a stranger on the streets, or am employee at one of the local stores, because I don’t currently speak more than a few basic words or phrases in Korean, I’ve become accustomed to pulling out my phone and using this app to convey simple needs or messages. Without it, I would spend countless moments staring at my Korean neighbors blank-faced with a deer-in-headlights stare.

Culture grace

Culture grace

There is something brave about stepping into an unknown world, something admirable about walking the footsteps of a different people and culture. Every time I try a new food or speak a Korean word out loud, even at the risk of being embarrassed, I remind myself of just how big and beautiful and diverse this world is. I remind myself that my way of life is not the only one that matters. My language is not the only one worth speaking. My traditions are not the only ones worth practicing and protecting. This world has more sounds and flavors and movements than many of us will ever be blessed (or brave enough) to experience.

Silent kindness

Silent kindness

I’ve been in Korea just over a week now. Though frequently overwhelmed by signs I can’t read and words I can’t understand, I’ve been far more overwhelmed by countless simple acts of kindness. Ask my friends and they will tell you I am rarely at a loss for words. Here, though, the smallest act of kindness has left me speechless and almost in tears from feeling overwhelmed by gratitude and thankfulness.