Philosophy and Blogging

There are two things I would like to investigate here, so this is a two part blog. First I will discuss a bit of philosophy. Second I will investigate the reason that I haven't been blogging recently.

PART I: Philosophy

I believe there is a great misunderstanding regarding the phrase "Live in the moment." The phrase essentially sums up the entire concept of Buddhist philosophy. I say philosophy and not religion because I am not religious. I am however philosophical, and my investigation of philosophy has included a study of the religions.

So, to reiterate, much of Buddhist philosophy can be boiled down to the phrase, "Live in the moment." Of course, this phrase has made it's way into the mainstream. I'm not going to take the time to investigate when or how, but it is a phrase uttered quite frequently by everyone from celebrities, to self help gurus, to your average stoner. And I've never really thought about that concept much before, the pervasiveness of the phrase, nor have I stopped to consider before the difference between the interpretation and reception of the phrase compared with the deeper philosophical meaning of the Buddhist concept. But during my evening cigarette tonight I had a bit of a revelation on the subject and I thought to share it.

When we hear the phrase "Live in the moment.", I believe that most of us think of it in terms of "Do what you want" or "Do whatever makes you happy right now." But I think that this not only misses the point of the philosophical meaning, but in fact undermines it completely. The Philosophical concept of living within the moment, I would assert, actually means that you should find happiness within the moment, regardless of what you are doing. It means that no matter if you are at a crazy and wild party, or simply taking out the trash on a boring Wednesday evening, you should be equally happy, equally fulfilled. Living in the moment means finding the joy in the simple act of existing. Every activity should be viewed as equally profound and equally meaningful, because the simple fact that you are here to exist, to be, is always both profound and meaningful no matter what you are doing. Joy can be taken in the mundane, and in fact the belief that anything you do is more significant than another is the road to frustration and misery. For such a belief is an endless cycle of desire, of trying to find meaning, trying to find fulfillment. It leads to dissatisfaction because nothing you ever do can quite live up to the ideal of fulfillment and happiness that you hold in your mind. But when you truly "Live in the moment.", fulfillment and happiness are ever present in every activity.

To simply "do what you want right now" only reinforces the view that such wants hold meaning. And I'm not at all saying that wants are bad, or wrong, or to be rejected. Trust me, I certainly have my hedonistic side. Wants are perfectly fine, and in fact completely natural. But they are not the endgame, they are not the key to fulfillment. I'm not an advocate of chastity in any respect or interpretation, but believing that doing what you want will lead you to deep meaning and understanding regarding your place in life is a fallacy.

Because the grand truth is that your "place" is one of insignificance. Even if you become a great person among our civilization, even if you become the president of the United fucking States of America and single handedly alter the course of our history; we are still a species of animal that arose on this planet relatively recently, a planet that circles a star that is one of one-hundred-billion in our galaxy, a galaxy that is one of one-hundred-billion within the range of our most powerful telescope. No matter who you are, you are pretty small in the scheme of things.

And while this is meant to make you feel small, it is not meant to make you feel irrelevant. Your relevance is in the fact that you ARE. You exist! And how fucking cool is that?! But don't think that what you accomplish is in and of itself fulfillment. Fulfillment is as simple as being fulfilled in whatever you accomplish, no matter what it is. That's the point, to simply enjoy it, whatever it is you do. whether you become president, or simple live a peaceful life taking out the garbage every Wednesday, neither should be considered better or worse, and both can bring the same amount of joy, if you let it.

In fact, I would argue that if you cultivate a mentality in which you are happy doing whatever it is you are doing, you will find yourself doing the things that will lead to healthier and more "productive" future moments. If you are as happy getting drunk on Tuesday as you are working on a novel, you are more likely to become a famous writer. Of course, I don't in any way claim to have mastered this mentality, but I think I've started to understand it recently. I have a long way to go. I'm not always happy, not always fulfilled, and I still make "bad" choices, like occasionally getting drunk on Tuesday instead of painting or writing or being productive, mostly because I believe on such a Tuesday that I will be happier by doing so. But I never am, and it never leads to anything. And for the record I was amazingly happy and fulfilled 30 minutes ago when I took out the garbage.

Of course, getting drunk on Tuesday is still ok. Just don't think that it is the key to happiness.


PART II: Blogging

A good friend of mine recently pointed out that it was time for another blog update. After all, it is more than halfway through March, and I haven't blogged since January. Of course, I was aware that I hadn't been blogging. I'd asked myself why and the answer was a simple "Eh, I don't feel like it." This response was never questioned until my friend brought it up, and then I was suddenly forced o ask myself, "Why don't you feel like it?"

The answer, of course, is not a simple one. There are many factors that I have come up with.

The primary factor seems to revolve around the purpose of this blog. When I came to Korea the purpose was clear. Document my experiences,  talk about Korea, let people know what's going on. The problem recently however is that pretty much nothing is going on. Not in relation to Korea anyway. I've run out of stuff to say about Korea. I've been here for 7 months. I'm used to it. Nothing is new, interesting, or impressive. This is just where I live, this is just what life is, and what is there really to say about it? Of course, I would be happy to take questions about Korea if there are any, but nothing comes to my mind to create any sort of discourse on.

That's not to say I have nothing to write about. Ideas that I would like to investigate, such as the philosophical discussion in Part 1 of this post, come to me frequently. Sometimes it is a matter of philosophy, sometimes it is a matter of psychology, sometimes it is a matter of politics and the structure of government. I am constantly thinking, and I frequently have an idea that I would like express, or else simply write about for the sake of my own investigation into the details of that subject.

But there are several problems with this as far as this blog is concerned. First, it seems to belay the nature of this blog and the reason that people read it. As far as I can tell, people read it to find out what's going on with me, not what I'm thinking about. Posts in which I discuss the fact that I feel depressed and out of sorts receive far more comments than posts discussing the nature of children and their sociological interactions. Of course, that could be interpreted to mean that people simply don't know what to say about the latter, but still, writing publicly can be a difficult thing without feedback. (That's not a guilt trip by the way)

But potentially more of an issue with simply blogging about my mental ramblings on Life, the Universe, and Everything is the fact that these thoughts are more difficult to retain long enough to blog about. It seems that quite frequently throughout almost every day I will have some sort of deep observation that I would like to investigate further through writing about it. For me writing is a meaningful activity because it allows me to organize and explore my thoughts in a way that results in more clarity than simply thinking about them. In this way it doesn't matter if anyone reads what I write, because I am writing to simply understand my own understandings.

The problem is that these thoughts disappear relatively quickly. I have maybe 24 hours to get them down before they become part of my internal understanding, but detached from my external expression. I simply don't have the time to blog as much as would be required to keep up with my mental musings. I love writing, but it's also a lot of work. I agonize over every word choice, attempting to phrase the exact connotation that exists within my mind. A post such as this one requires about two hours of writing, proof reading, and editing to produce. When you're already working 55 hours a week, and struggling to maintain/create a social life so that you don't feel like a complete hermit, that's a very significant amount of time. I lose the mental capacity to reverberate my thoughts more frequently than I have the time to actually express them, and that can be very frustrating.

On that note, here's one of the things I would have written about today if I didn't have a job, and if I had the time to just sit in front of a computer typing for 8 hours a day. There were a few others, but they are already lost to me. Given unlimited time, I would write an 8 page psychological and sociological investigation into just this subject. Also, this is less to make a point than it is to document an idea to see if that helps me come back to it later.

The nature of discipline. Why are some children such assholes? It seems to me that people are almost born either with the disposition to care about others, or else to think only for themselves.And with regards to the latter, how much can discipline be a factor in positive growth? In the micro sense, it seems like my efforts of reward and punishment are almost futile. Reward does seem to solidify the concept with the "good" kids that they are acting correctly, but by punishing the "bad" kids, it seems to further polarize their psychology, if anything, only serving to further push them in the direction of self interest. Additionally, while treating their behavior with tolerance and kindness doesn't further polarize them, it doesn't seem to serve any purpose in terms of encouraging them to act with any more empathy towards their peers. And I certainly can't reward bad behavior. This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of being a teacher. Of course, I have no knowledge of the home life or parenting styles, so I am unable to extrapolate how this factors into the behavior of these children. Still, it makes me think a lot about nature vs. nurture and, in the case of nurture, what we can do about such behavior. Even assuming that discipline can eventually correct the negative behaviors, does it ever serve to correct the underlying mentality that, in such young children, produces those behaviors? I would like to hope so, but the scope of my observation is far to limited to say one way or the other.

And with that, I bid you goodnight.

       Adieu

Cildren, Innosence, Humanity, and Teaching

I follow up last weeks post, which I dub the worst ever, with a post where I totally have my game back. Yea, get psyched. This is a post for the record books. It's gonna be awesome. It's philosophical, thought provoking, and yet easy to fallow. Share it on facebook if you like it, I'd really love a ton of people to read it.

Kids. Chillun. Young-uns. Little ones. Munchkins, as my mother calls them. Ah, what a massively interesting and important concept to my life at this moment in time. I mean, I am a kindergarten teacher after all. But not only in my life is this an important concept. Really, the concept of what children are, and what they mean for us as people, the question of what we are supposed to do with them, and the curiosity of what it means to be a child, is perhaps, alongside the concept of death, the most universal and common enigma beheld by every member of the human race at one point or another. Sure, there are other philosophical musings that are universal. But at some point, almost everyone looks at a child and wonders, "What is that exactly?"

After all, all of us were one of those at one point or another. A child, that is. Because one can not become an adult without first having been a child. And yet, once one achieves adulthood, childhood is lost to a degree. We may remember this experience, or that feeling. But it's impossible to really remember why we thought the things we thought, and why we did the things we did. I myself was sure, when I was a child, that I would never lose my understanding of childhood. And perhaps I have retained my understanding to a greater degree than many adults. But it is not a perfect understanding. There is still wonder, amusement, curiosity, and confusion when I watch children.

Children act in way that is simultaneously more authentic and yet more delusional than the way an adult acts. A child exhibits the most distilled aspects of humanity, yet simultaneously completely fails to comprehend the most essential components of what makes human life what it is. A child is utterly absorbed in it's own experience, incapable of imagining life as another person, and yet still somehow manages to more naturally demonstrate things such as caring and sharing than most adults. From an adults perspective, childhood is an existence composed entirely of paradoxes. But to the child, as with the dreamer, everything makes sense, and no alternative is ever fathomed.

We call children innocent, but they are not exactly. At least not in the way we usually think of the word. They are not innocent in the sense that they are not guilty of wrongdoings. In fact, they are probably more guilty of wrongdoings, in the form of immaturities, selfishness, disrespect, etc., than are adults. But the difference is that they are not aware of their actions as wrong. They have to be taught what is wrong and what is right. When they do something we consider wrong, they have no feeling of guilt, because they are unaware that they have not acted completely appropriately. Guilt must be learned, and wrong vs. right are constructions of society. This is innocence.  To be innocent does not mean to have not done something wrong. To be innocent means to not realize that one has done something wrong. Yet innocence goes beyond whether an action is itself considered right or wrong, but continues to be about a lack of understanding. We say that children are innocent because they lack experience, and lack the understandings that such experiences provide. Everything is new to a child, and this is what makes children and childhood beautiful. They experience joy from things that adults consider simple and meaningless.

But isn't joy itself meaningful? Why don't adults ever sit in a circle and play a rousing game of "duck duck goose"? I can't imagine that even now I wouldn't find pleasure in the simple joy of chasing each other around in a circle. So why don't we ever do it? I suppose the simple answer is that we have other things to occupy ourselves with. We like to drink, and dance, and play more complex games, such as pool, or tennis, or I don't know, Dungeons and Dragons. We have the independence and mobility to go out and do things, such as attend concerts, and festivals, and go to museums. But because we have more independence, mobility, and options, we are less able to be completely spontaneous, and activities have to be planned and organized. I suppose it's difficult to imagine a group of adults making the effort to plan a game of duck duck goose.

What, then, can we learn about ourselves from children? I have learned many things about humanity. I have learned, for example, just how hive-mind like we are. I have seen the way that ideas and habits transfer from one child to another like a disease. This often happens completely empathicaly, without any form of verbal communication or explanation on the subject. Jokes and silly little games or tricks are perfect examples. I'm often amazed at the things kids find funny and amusing. One kid will find something amusing, and suddenly it is the silly little thing of the day in the entire school. But I think that what causes such things to spread is the desire by the other children to share in the amusement. The details or substance of the thing are irrelevant compared to the mental construct of "I want in! What's so funny? I want to laugh at something too!". The joke, then, becomes the simple fact that there is a joke, and not at all what the joke actually is. This is why I find it so easy to entertain my kids. I just have to do something in a way that tells them that it is funny, never mind what.

As adults we care somewhat more for the details and substances of the things that amuse us. But this I think is only because we can be more discerning. We have found our social groups with which we identify, and the groups to which we belong are differentiated from other social groups to which others belong. And in fact, we determine what these groups are based on the emotional decisions that we make, what we find funny for example. There is less pressure to find something funny just because someone else does, because if we don't find it funny, we will simply find someone else who does not. Yet we all still respond to the expectations of those around us, even when those expectations are unspoken. And it doesn't even always come in the form of expectations. Sometimes it's just a matter of common feelings, and reacting to a stimuli in a common way. But we want to react in a common way. It lets us know that we aren't alone. And that is the greatest fear to the human psyche, the fear of being alone. We function best with others. This is why we form families, and social groups, and organizations, and governments. We want to identify with others, because we don't know how to completely identify as individuals, even though we all are individuals. We learn to identify as individuals somewhat more as we grow. But as children, the psychological need is very much on acceptance and incorporation.

For example, I have one student who is very good about listening to me whenever I scold him for something. If he does something wrong, and I tell him, he will say "Yes, Teacher.", and stop immediately. But then when he perceives another student doing a similar thing, he will take it upon himself to scold that student for it. Of course, then I have to scold him for that, and remind him that I am the teacher and not him. He says yes to that as well, but he doesn't quite seem to get it, because he does this quite frequently. I have been pondering why this is exactly. And I think it must stem from this same need of acceptance and belonging. He wants my acceptance of course, and so he doesn't want to do something he knows I consider wrong, and he also wants to demonstrate to me that he understands my desires by attempting to enforce them. Simultaneously, he wants to feel like he belongs with his peers, that he is a member of the group, and so if there is an action he will not do out of desire for my acceptance, he does not want the other students to do it either, because if they do then he will be disconnected from them in some small way. Do I have any psychologists out there reading this? These are all very intuitive understandings, I would love a professionals take on them if possible.

And so, to finish this all off, I'd just like to comment on how much I am enjoying teaching, and how much I love being a teacher. I'm really starting to identify with it, and I think the particular job I have here is as much responsible for my growth as a person, if not more so, than the whole traveling and living in another country thing. Not that I was every particularly irresponsible, but this is a new kind of responsibility, the responsibility of being responsible for the development of another. I constantly have to be aware of my actions and how they will be perceived (and often imitated) by my children. And that's another thing. Not the children but my children. Because as any parent, I desire and take joy in their success, I relish in their laughter, I wonder about their future. I don't just teach them English, I teach them life lessons. I'm not just a teacher, but a role model. I'm also a disciplinarian. And that has actually proven to be the most difficult part of my job, because I've never been one to enforce my perspective or my morality on another. In that respect I have always been a very mellow and laid back kind of person. But you can't be with young children. They require a degree of discipline, and it has often been a challenge figuring out where to draw the lines, and determining and following through with appropriate punishments when those lines are crossed. But that too has made me a stronger and more mature person.

I never used to think I was good with children. When I first started applying to schools out here I specifically avoided all descriptions involving kindergartners. And yet, it turns out that I couldn't imagine a more fulfilling or rewarding job. I think I never appreciated before just how important kindergarten teachers are, just how important to development that age is. There's a lot that goes into it. It doesn't really require a lot of specific knowledge, or even necessarily a ton of training. I've certainly been able to pick up the skills pretty much as I go. It requires patience, kindness, love, compassion, empathy, firmness. It requires a lot of heart. It provides you with perspective and wisdom.

I've joked with some friends before about how many terrible parents there are in the world, and how to combat that, as well as to cut down on overpopulation, we should require people to acquire a license of some sort before reproducing. I think a requirement to getting such a license should be to teach kindergarten for a year.

           -Mongoose

*Sigh*

I'm in a funk.

Not a major funk. Not a major depression by any means. But definitely some kind of funk. And a persistent one.

I suppose it's just the winter thing. I'm usually in some kind of funk starting around February. But I don't know. The funk blocks clear thinking on the matter.

There's really nothing wrong. I like my job a lot, though it is exhausting. I like living here a lot, though it can be somewhat lonely at times.

Often I don't know what to do or how to spend my time. I come home from work and I cook dinner, and then I just have this "now what?" feeling. I need a hobby. But I have a bunch of hobbies. But I always seem to have to force myself to do them. Like drawing. I have a set of oil pastels. I like to draw. But lately I haven't wanted to. Why? And chainmaille. I have at least 2 chainmaille projects I'm supposed to be working on. I downloaded a few seasons of Star Treck: The Next Generation thinking I could get some chain work done while watching. I'm almost done with season 2, but I haven't started any chainmaille yet. And writing. I like writing. But it seems that I never want to sit down and write. I didn't even want to write a blog post today. I'm forcing myself to. I feel like I don't know what to say, or how to say it. I feel like this is the worst blog post ever. Stupid post. All disjointed and even more rambly than usual.

*Sigh*

So yea, I'm in a funk.

I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know if I want to stay here for a second year or come home. Or go somewhere else. I don't know where else I want to travel to, what other places I want to see. I don't know what I want to accomplish in life. I don't know what kind of person I want to be. When I do come back to the states, I don't know where I want to live or what I want to do. I don't really know anything. Nor do I really want to think about it all that much. When I first got here my mind was buzzing with thinking about my dreams, and my next steps, and blah blah blah. But I don't really have any dreams at the moment. Nothing specific anyway. When I think about my future, all that comes to my mind is a big, endless, gray field. No, seriously. I used to see different possible futures, like me as a researcher, or living in an earthship, or this or that. Now I think about it, I just see the color gray stretching out infinitely. And I guess I'm scared that if I don't fill that void with something, some kind of dream, than I'll never do anything. Which is silly. I suppose life happens regardless of intent.

And I want a girlfriend. I think. I assume. Or am I just in the habit of wanting a girlfriend? No, I'm pretty sure I actually do. But that's complicated. The temporary nature of my being here. The plans I used to have for the future that have been replaced by the gray void. How do I explain polyamoury to a Korean girl? As fringe as it is in the states, it would sound completely ridiculous here. Of course, I could do monogamy for a while. In fact it might even be nice for a change. But can I permanently part with such a fundamental aspect of my philosophy? And if not, than any relationship I get into based on monogamy must be temporary. But is that fair to someone? Is it right to get into a relationship with someone based on terms you know will force an end to the relationship at somepoint down the road?

Besides, the truth is I don't just want a girlfriend, I want a domestic partner. I guess I'm starting to feel those adult hormones or something. I don't just want a person to go out with, and hold hands with, and have sex with. I want a person to come home to, to cook dinner with, to be silently in the company of. Of course, I realize that that doesn't just happen. You need to start out with one and it builds to the next. But, in this life here, I fear that any sort of domestic partner situation is really quite impossible. And of course it all goes back to the complications of my non-permanence here as well as my less than typical views on love and relationships.

*Sigh*

This sure is a funky funk....

Dreams

First of all, it should be noted that this post might be somewhat more rambly than normal. Which I suppose is saying something. I'm feeling philosophical and I just feel like writing I guess. Thoughts, you know. Nothing to do with Korea.

Dreams. What are they exactly? I'm a dreamer. Which isn't to simply say that I daydream, or that I envision an idealistic future, which I do, but that I'm very into the act of dreaming, you know while I'm asleep and stuff. Do you dream vividly?  Do you wake up with detailed memory of everything you've experienced while asleep? I do. The term "experience" is completely valid. While dreaming you experience whetever your mind creates, you believe it to be real, during those hours of "rest" you find yourself in worlds and environments that you completely accept to be truth. They are experience as valid as any that you have while awake.

And what does that mean exactly? What does it mean that you exist in a place that waking reality says is meaningless, but that for the time you accept as all there is. Do your decisions in such a reality matter? Decisions that don't affect your life in anyway, sure, but while you are in the dream world, you don't know that. I have struggled with the question: if you do something immoral in a dream, believing the circumstances of the dream, and still feeling as if your actions follow the law of free will, is the act actually immoral? Despite the fact that it has no real world consequences, is the fact that you believe the act to be based in reality at the time mean that it is in fact a matter of morality? Similarly, if you display an act of great bravery in a dream, if you believe the dream to be reality at the time, does that speak to your character? I believe the answer to these questions to be, "yes".

I dream extraordinarily vividly. From discussing the matter with other people, it seems that I dream more vividly than the average person. I have had occasions in which, upon waking, I have remembered my entire night of dreams, from falling asleep to waking. And I don't care what science says on the matter. I know what I've experienced.

And I've began noticing, evaluating, and at times experimenting with my experiences while dreaming. And I absolutely believe that you exert the same degree of free will in your dreams that you do while you are awake. The environment, the circumstances, may simply be a manifestation of your subconscious,  but at the root of the dream is the experience of consciousness, the ability to make choices, the belief that what you are experiencing is real. And isn't this in and of itself vastly meaningful? I have recalled in my dreams, upon wakening, the moment of choice, the instant of deciding this or that, and have been able to then analyze the effect said choice had on the dream as a whole. I determine this to be significant, if not the entire purpose of dreaming in the first place.

I believe that through dreaming we discover who we truly are, we find out how we react to the most extreme of circumstances when we assume those circumstances to be completely factual, despite their extremity. I have had occasions in which the events of my dreams, and my choices therein, were so intense, as to elicit contemplation on the matter(s) for days to come. I have grown and changed myself in certain ways solely on the basis of such dreams. I have examined the decisions I made in those dreams, regretted my psychological response to extreme fictional events, evaluated the underlying reasons for such responses,  become more in touch with my emotional and logical decision making processes, and then altered them. How is this not a beautiful and powerful thing?

Where am I going with this, or why am I bringing it up? I'm not sure. It crossed my mind tonight. I'm in a philosophical and artistic mood, I felt like writing, and this is something that is frequently on my mind. Pay no attention to it if it means nothing to you. I know some of you don't ever remember your dreams. But if you do, know please know the power that they hold.

      -Mongoose

Whistfully Whimsical Whispered Words

I sit and sigh,

But don’t know why,

And listen as the time goes by.

I start to cry,

But don’t know why,

Perhaps because I’ll never fly.

Life is a place,

And Earth is a time,

Where wonders ceaselessly wander on.

And on that note, I’ll wander too,

While with that note, I play a tune.

Did you ever ask

To sip from a flask

Full of remorse,

To later endorse,

Or even enforce,

The way we play the game?

Or maybe you said,

“I wish I was dead!”

Only to find,
in time,

A feeling of a different kind.

The answer, my friend,

Is not with the wind,

Though the wind is with the answer.

A dancer may sing,

Yet no one will bring

The truth before a king.

The rest, you see,

Is far beyond me,

And while I truly hate to leave you,

The rust on my face

Affords me no grace,

Allows me no space!

And so, with haste, I depart from this place.

But remember my friend,

It is only the end

When there is nothing left to mend.

Adieu

The Untitled Title

First of all, before getting into the body of this post, I would just like to say: I see you. Yes you. You know who you are. The Russian. See, I can look up a lot of interesting stats about this blog. I can look up page views by date, by browser type, by hardware brand, and by country. And I'm well aware that there is somebody from Russia reading my blog somewhat regularly. And this has been going on almost ever since I started this blog. In fact, Russia has the third most page views of any country, after the USA and South Korea, both of which make sense. I have 24 page views from Russia, which doesn't sound like a lot, but then, I only have 10 posts. So that's over 2 page views from Russia for each post. And it's not like this is a widely read blog. So I just want to say, to whoever is reading my blog in Russia, I know you're there. And if your some sort of comie spy....well that's fucking cool. I'm honored to have your attention. And if I have some friend in Russia that I didn't know about...well why the fuck didn't you tell me you were in Russia?! Send me some Borscht! I love that shit...

Alright, back to your regularly scheduled nonsense.

Lately I've been feeling more and more connected to Korea, attached to this life, comfortable, and less attached to the life I had back home. It's been a good feeling. I'm honestly consistently happier in this life than I've ever been before. And there doesn't seem to be any particular reason for it. Except, I suppose, that there's nothing on the horizon, nothing to anticipate, just the daily routine. And that's comfortable, and this is a comfortable place to have a routine. Or perhaps it's just the simple fact that this life remains a change of pace, a change of scenery, from the 25 years I spent in Cleveland, and that the simple freshness of it all still gives me joy even after 6 months here. Granted it is a magnificent city, with one of the best metro systems in the world, a myriad of wonderful parks, an endless number of things to do and places to see, and lots of cheap seafood.

Still I've become aware lately that lots of Koreans feel very much about living here the way I felt about living in Cleveland: "Yea, so?". And that fascinates me. I mean, it makes sense I suppose. But I've talked to so many Koreans who feel depressed, and stuck in a rut, and like they aren't doing anything interesting, and I just want to scream at them, "You live in Seoul! Do you have any idea how interesting that is?!". I want to take them to the endless cornfields of Ohio and ask them, "Does this look more interesting to you?". But the truth I'm realizing is that they probably would find it interesting. Because it's different from what they know. After all, that's what it means to be stuck in a rut, to be surrounded by what you know and to never experience anything new or different. I suppose then that there's something endemic to the modern psychology of the human race that spurs us to desire a variety of experiences. A Korean who moves to Cleveland might be just as happy and interested as I am to have moved from Cleveland to Seoul. Though the city of Seoul may be objectively superior in a number of definable ways, the subjective nature of experience is more affected by the variance between the two than anything else. I wonder why that is. It does seem as if for the majority of human history our survival depended on being in familiar territory, thus this must be a fairly recent development in our psyche. But I digress, that is an investigation that I am not prepared to entertain at this moment.

Still, despite how happy I've been recently, today something is different for some reason. I feel weird about everything. I feel very much in a kind of limbo. I don't feel connected today. I suppose I feel very aware of the temporary nature of this phase of my life. 6 months in I have a handful of friends, but nothing on the level of what I had back home. I have plenty of people to spend time with, but overall I feel more independent here, more on my own. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact I think it's part of the reason I came, to develop that kind of independence and self sufficiency. But today the sense is that the whole purpose of being here is almost entirely self improvement, and that I'm not advancing my social life in any permanent or long term way. That is to say, I've made many alterations to my way of life that I think are very positive. I use public transportation almost exclusively (I don't have a car after all). I dry my cloths by hanging them (no cloths drier). I cook more frequently. I write more. I draw more. I feel productive and fulfilled. So I feel like I'm becoming a more complete individual, more like the person I want to be. But it's amazing how many of my long term desires are social. I want to build a community. I want to participate in and contribute to something larger than myself. More than just wanting a girlfriend, I want a domestic partner. These are goals that I can't fulfill here, that have to be on hold indefinitely until I return.

Simultaneously, however, I'm feeling less connected to back home as well. I'm so established in my life here, that I don't really feel any attachment to the life I had before. For the first time, I'm not excited when I imagine coming back home, but a little scared. There's people who I'm very connected to back home. That hasn't really changed. But when I come back home I won't have a job, or a place to live. I won't have a routine. I won't have this city, that, as mentioned, is a truly fabulous city. I have people back home and a community back home, but I don't have a life there. I have a life here, but I don't have a community or a future. Thus, at this moment I don't feel anchored or attached to anything. It's kind of a lonely feeling. And it's not a sharp, intense, or terrible loneliness, like I felt when I first got here. But it is deep and pervasive, though subtle.

In the past week I've heard from a lot of people back home about how proud and impressed they are with me for doing this. I have to admit, I have mixed feelings every time I hear that. Certainly it's nice to feel impressive, and to know that the people you care about are proud of you. But the longer I'm here, the longer it really just doesn't feel like all that big of a deal. Additionally, while back in the states I had this self impression of being an adventurous person, my experiences since coming here have forced me to reevaluate that position. I've met people that humble me in that sense. I've met people that have traveled all over the world. I've met people that have lived for more than a year in 4 or 5 different countries. For all I've seen and experienced, I've met people who have seen and experienced so much as to make me feel truly naive and uneducated about the world. So I'm left feeling, thinking, "What of this year in Korea? It's nothing. It's insignificant. It's a mere taste of the world, and nothing resembling a full portion." If I leave at the end of this year and come back to the states, and live there for the rest of my life, I won't be worldly, I won't have significant perspective, I won't have achieved any great understanding. I'll have a very limited perspective of a single culture out of hundreds. And what does that amount to really?

I realize that that paragraph sounds very negative. And I want to emphasize that my feelings aren't nearly as negative as such writing might indicate. The negativity is meant only to bring a degree of balance to the overwhelming positivity that I am receiving from all of you. I also acknowledge that what would be required in order to achieve such worldliness and such vast perspective would involve sacrificing the deep bonds that I have to the people who I am close to back home. Truly, I have come to realize how very fortunate I am to have bonds as strong as I do. While perhaps being incompatible with the epitome of worldliness, I realize that such bonds are something that those who are so worldly do not have, and in fact by definition are incapable of having. It is my hope that my limited perspective will be of some value to my community when I finally rejoin it.

And on that note, to those who consider themselves a part of my community, please comment on this post. It matters not to me whether I receive the comment here on the blog itself or on facebook. I receive so much feedback verbally, on the phone, often second hand, weeks or months after the post. But I can not convey how uplifting it is to receive written comments from you. Even if you are reading a post a month after I have made it, and you leave a message on my facebook wall about it, please know that such a gesture will uplift my spirits the moment it is received. My love for you and my deep connection to you has become more a part of my identity now than it ever has been before. Indeed, it has proven to be the strongest and most enduring thing within me.

    -Mongoose

Christmas

There is something particularly unique for me about being an expat during Christmas. Maybe it is because Christmas is such a major and distinct part of American culture, that there's nothing quite like Christmas to really drive the point home that we're not in fucking Kansas anymore. Or Ohio. Lot's of corn either way, so really what's the difference.

In a lot of ways, this is the most Christmasy I've ever felt, perhaps in an effort to compensate for the lack of what I'm used to having rammed down my throat. Now don't get me wrong, Christmas is definitely a thing here in Korea. There's signs of Christmas all over. Christmas music drifts out of the storefronts as you walk down the street, there's a modest amount of decorations to be seen, and there's a couple public Christmas trees here and there. We decorated the school, and had a Christmas party for the kids, complete with one of the teachers dressing up as Santa and handing out presents that the parents had brought in for them.

But it is definitively not the Christmas that I am used too. Everything was open both last night and today. There was no obvious difference in the hustle and bustle of the city in any way. And actually, that turned out to be my least favorite part of Christmas in Korea. It's funny, because in past years I've complained about how boring Christmas is, because there's nothing to do, and I have no one to celebrate it with. But also, everything is just so quiet, and that's such a unique thing, that I kind of missed it today. It just didn't feel like Christmas with people...you know...doing stuff.

On the other hand, Christmas in Korea is infinitely more secular. It's doesn't in any way have the feel or vibe of a deeply religious holiday. I find this interesting, because I don't believe that Christmas is a holiday acknowledged or endorsed by the government in any official capacity here, whereas is is in the US, though there is obviously a mostly universal unofficial recognition of it here. Also, I find the secularist Korean Christmas incredibly ironic, because Korea is much more uniformly Christian that the USA. I mean seriously, except for the bud-hist monks that actually live at the temples (which seem to exist mostly to give people a unique vacation option) the entire country is Christian. I'm guessing somewhere in the range of 95% of Koreans would identify themselves as such, though this is just a guess and based off of absolutely no actual statistical information.

But you don't get the vibe of it being a religious holiday at all. There aren't any religious decorations (read: no manger scenes outside churches. Though to be fair, where would they put them?). There isn't a mass flight to churches on Christmas Eve for Midnight Mass (I'm not even sure churches had a midnight mass). And I don't think any more people attended church today than normally do on Sunday. And it's not that there aren't any religious nut-jobs here. There's a fringe group that actually seems to believe that the second coming of Christ happened about 40 years ago. It was in Korea of course. Jesus #2 is Korean. I found that funny. But still, most people seem to have a very relaxed view of the holiday.

All and all it seems to me that Koreans have accepted Christmas for what it is, for what we so desperately want to deny it as in the US: nothing more than an excuse to exchange gifts and time with loved ones. And really, I think that's totally appropriate. That's what the winter holiday has been about for a significant part of recorded history, regardless of what anybody wanted to call it. Family and presents. And I think a gift giving holiday is good. It doesn't have to be a major retail extravaganza as it has become in the states in the past few decades. I don't think you have to get big elaborate expensive gifts, or feel pressured to get something for every single person you know. But it's nice to have an excuse to buy, or make, a little something for those who are important to you. You know, as a way to let them know that they are important to you. That pretty much seems to be how Koreans celebrate Christmas, and I totally support that.

So being in Korea has changed my feelings on Christmas. I appreciate the secular aspects of it much more now that the religious aspects aren't being forced upon me. I also more greatly appreciate the aspect of having an excuse to spend time with friends and family now that, you know, I can't. I missed you all much more than usual today. Really, I'm surprised by how much I missed the Christmas that I am used to. I found myself wishing everyone last night a Merry Christmas, which is not a thing I've ever really made a point of doing before. But like I said, with all the silly religion removed, I guess I've realized the value in having a winter time family/friends based holiday, whatever the hell you want to call it.

So Merry Christmas to All.
     -Mongoose