On the Feeling of Futility

How do you do it, my fellow Americans? How do you hold yourself back, bite your tongue, stay in your lane? I know you’re out there. I know that these gun crimes which have been increasing with such regularity that the tactless anonymous person on the internet joking that December’s massacre happened early and that maybe there will be another one squeezed in before Christmas holidays begin leads you not to rage at his cruelty but rather to sadly hoping that’s not true. But not doubting that it might be.

You see it so often you don’t know what to do. The politicians continue to pray away and react to the problem and save face by showing support and remorse for those involved. You watch them offer their well wishes, hoping the victims will stay strong, the police will do their job, and that they can continue to pretend that they will be an effective president.

How do you do it? How do you keep from divisive political rants? The gun violence, rampant racism, pervasive sexism, and ignorant classism (just to name a few) – how do you keep it off your newsfeed? Off your wall? Out of your conversations?

When one of the few speaks up on your newsfeed they are attacked – they are called extremists, crazy left wing liberals, surely there is something wrong with them, they want to take away our rights, and anyways, why should we punish Honest Hard-working Harry who simply wants to take his gun out and kill some helpless animals?

How do you ignore it? You’re passionate, you’re educated, you’ve anticipated the typical responses and addressed them. You've drafted a lengthy response, you've bared your true feelings, you are prepared to hit “share” “send” or “post.” But then you take a deep breath, delete it, and continue to scroll through your newsfeed.

It's obvious, you see. You don’t want to cause an argument, you don’t want to be pulled into a mindless feud with someone who refuses to see the other side of the argument, someone who refuses to be inconvenienced in anyway, and who is incapable of questioning the necessity of a hobby that perhaps their parents had passed on to them.

How do you hide your truth, your perspective, your beliefs? When did you become a passive observer, when did the futility of change become so embedded in you that you can’t even attempt to sway the opinions of close friends and family?

It happened gradually. Your youthful vigor has been deadened. Your eyes are dulled. You've learned that it’s too easy to avoid confrontation and a messy argument. There’s so much anger and darkness in the world, you rationalize, why bother bringing a heavy cloud over the skies of my friends, my family, my world?

You scroll on through, lurking in the background watching the events that will define your life, your country, and the lives of your children.

Because clearly, there’s nothing else you can do.

On Anxiety - Overcoming Uncertainty

I feel nauseous and have to fight back the tears threatening to burst. The butterflies in my stomach are making me sick and I can’t breathe. My hands are shaking as my eyes dart wildly around the room.

The edges of my consciousness frantically scramble; clawing and tearing at the last sliver of control that is rapidly being blown beyond my reach. My fingertips feel bloody and raw when I am suddenly overwhelmed by the futility of my effort and the grasping becomes half hearted, eventually stopping altogether.

I shudder and fold over, fold inwards, hiding inside of myself.

With no control and half blind with fear I hold my breath as the strange wind continues to rage. It tears around me, propelling me forward, farther into the unknown. But where is it taking me?

A single tear slips out, immediately torn off my face.

There’s no turning back now.

Gritting my teeth I widen my eyes and take a step forward. 

Suddenly the wind stops. 

I can breathe again. 

One step at a time.

one foot in front of the other

When I flew home for my brother’s wedding in September I took the opportunity to replace some of my things. I brought a bunch of clothes from Busan that I never wore and in return I grabbed a huge stack of flute music, some pans and tea balls from my kitchen, some books, a pillow, and a few other miscellaneous items.

I also chose to bring some posters to put up in my new home, even though I knew I would only be here for a few more months. One is a replica of Van Gogh’s starry night – a beautiful blue poster featuring bold brush strokes and an unidentified couple near the river with a city landscape and starry sky on the horizon. It’s a poster I bought at a tumultuous personal time and it has always had a soothing effect on me. Continuing with this blue theme I brought back a piece of spray paint art that I bought on my first trip to New York. It is old and battered and may soon be thrown away, but it reminds me of the sense of excitement and energy I had for traveling, for being somewhere new and different. It reminds me of the first time I forsook a grim practicality with finances and chose to go out on a limb and buy a ticket for the experience, rather than pass it up for the financial stability.

The third poster is the most important one for me, as of late.

It's an image of an androgynous shadowy figure running through the woods at twilight with a quote from Carlos Castaneda stating: "We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same."

I put it on the wall next to my music stand near the door. Every morning I walk by it as I prepare for the day. Every night I glance at it as I begin a practice session. It’s in front of me as I do yoga each day.

It’s my reminder that everyday should be a step forward. It doesn't have to be a huge leap, you can inch forward by choosing to do some small thing with a positive impact on your daily life, or you can charge forward with abandon and redefine who you are. But know that if you choose to do nothing, if you choose to dwell in some sense of stasis and lethargy, you are actively making yourself miserable. Even if it feels to you as if you are simply not actively bettering yourself, you are choosing to be in a way that does not resonate with who you are.

That’s not to say that you can’t take personal days, even from yourself. Sometimes we need time to recharge.

But each day we make a choice, strength or misery, forward or backward, yes or no.

For me, today was a small step. I drafted, edited, and submitted an application to a music school in Zurich. It was only one application. It was for a position that isn’t hiring and might not even look over my information and I had to sacrifice my flute time to do it.

But I can rest easy tonight knowing that there is one more chance for employment, one more opportunity for the future, thanks to that one hour of focused work.

I can approach my yoga mat feeling calm and ready to embrace this strength – a mental fortitude or optimism and effort that will easily transfer into the physical strength required for my yoga practice.

I can sleep with a sense of accomplishment rather than a pervasive sense of unease. For the little things are what make you feel that you have control. I am not a wait-er, I am a do-er and I attribute this fact to any success I’ve had up to this point. When I begin to feel stressed butterflies soaring in my stomach before going to sleep at night I know that something needs to happen.

Even if it’s a little thing. 

A Sober October

I’ve challenged myself to quit drinking, possibly for the foreseeable future but definitely for the month of October. This challenge has been added to my previous decision to incorporate daily some form of physical exercise, flute study, French and German practice, and personal meditation. Combined with my renewed focus on proper nutrition and sleep habits and I can honestly say I've never felt better. 

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This body of mine was not intended for a desk job. I am not built to sit in one position all day long, hunched over a screen, trying to work ahead on the computer.

I can no longer spend my weekends wallowing in bed all day before leaping up to go sit on a barstool all night. My body does not appreciate those long mornings and afternoons wasted from the night before. They say drinking borrows happiness from the following days and this has never been more true. I can't continue to treat my body, the only one I will ever have, this way.

When I returned from my trek in India I had never felt better. The food I was eating was unprocessed, simplistic, and whole. I was extremely well hydrated thanks to countless cups of tea and bottles of water, and my body was being used to the peak of its physical potential. I hadn’t had a headache in two weeks and I was ecstatic.

I thought it was the food, water, and exercise. Don’t get me wrong, it was all of those things. But perhaps it was also the lack of alcohol. This next month I've decided to test that. Although I am not an alcoholic, I only drink socially on weekends and over long breaks, I am interested to see how completely eliminating alcohol from my diet will effect me. 

So far, so good. This morning I ran 8km. I did not plan it, I just woke up and felt the need to run today. So after drinking some preparatory water and having a small bowl of cereal I laced up my tennis shoes and ran out the door. I stretched myself. I opened up my stride and just let myself go. My hips, back, legs, and neck felt better and better with each step. I did some sprints for fun, to see just how long and even each pace could be, to remind myself of what my body is capable of. I listened to my body and responded by walking when my knee started to hurt. I enjoyed the morning for what it was: a pain free moment in which I could revel in the sheer physicality of my body. It was a positive, healthy, and active start to my day; a moment to breathe in the semi-fresh (read: polluted) air; a symbolic transition into a new phase of my life as I embrace health, conscious dietary choices, and a wholehearted pursuit of my career as a musician.

I feel more optimistic about my potential and my future than ever before, which is ironic considering the fact that these next few months are some of the most unstable, uncertain, and unreliable ones of my life so far.

I want to let the terrible migraines that wipe me out for days on end be the reminder to enjoy the days where I am completely healthy. I want to prove to myself that I can continue to progress and become a more accomplished musician. I want to see what happens to my body as I listen to it more fully, following what it wants and not what I do. I want to be happy.

So it's time to be selfish and do what I want for me. That time came long ago, but I didn't listen. Now I can no longer ignore it. I'm 25 years old, a quarter of a century, and my life is mine. It's time to start living my own life, rather than letting life happen to me.

You should do the same. 

because nobody is perfect

It is kind of fascinating taking a step back and analyzing your mindset and reactions towards the world around you. These last two months have been so undeniably wonderful and satisfying that it is only natural for me to be falling into a bit of a slump now that I am back to work.

But this morning I allowed myself to dwell in a negative and unhappy attitude for much longer than I normally would let happen. Everything was bothering me. The people staring at their cell phones while walking and swerving into me all over the sidewalk, the businesses with irregular hours, the elderly women slamming into me as I wait for a bus, the guys on the bus taking up three quarters of the seat and pushing me into the window. The sun. The air. The traffic.

Everything. Grated. On. Me.

I wanted to leave. If I didn’t have this bit of credit card debt I might have. Book a one way ticket, end up somewhere you want to be, propel your career forward rather than staying in this slump. These were my thoughts. As if transporting myself from here to there would magically fix my attitude. As if Korea was the problem instead of my mindset.

As if I had no control over myself, my attitude, or my future while I was in this country.

Fortunately I was able to dislodge my head from the deep crevices of my body before I ruined my entire day.

The beauty of my life is that I am living abroad, I’m surrounded by a new culture, I’m working with awesome, strange, and sometimes overwhelming schools, teachers, and students. I’m doing something that, although I don’t intend to do forever, I am able to find happiness and joy in. And I am also able to look forward to the future and move myself in a direction I can be proud of.

Sometimes all I want is to let myself dwell in negativity and unhappiness. Wishing I were somewhere else, wishing I was doing something else, wishing for something other than I have, regardless of what it is. But this is such a wasted energy and ambition because when I am in that magical “other place” I am going to have the same bad days, the same mornings waking up on the wrong side of the bed and slamming my head against the wall, the same unhappiness. What matters is how I turn those days around.

If my experiences here were really terrible, if nothing made me happy and I had no reason to stay - I would not hesitate to hop on a plane. If I found something else that I wanted to do, something that was more focused on me and my dreams and passions I would take less than two hours to pack all of my things and be out of this country. If there was no reason for me to stay then I would be gone.

But there are so many reasons for me to be where I am. Even if sometimes that reason is simply to remind myself that I don’t need to live an ideal, utopian life in order to be happy, or to tell myself that I can keep my focus and passion moving forward regardless of personal circumstances. There are so many reasons for me to be where I am.

Sometimes I just need to tell myself to be happy and yes, it’s as simple as that.

But it helps when some of your classes are cancelled and your students are all taking a giant ballet lesson in the auditorium. Really, Korea? Sometimes you know exactly how to make my day.

Living Unapologetically

I'm not the first expatriate, immigrant, or tourist to find myself treading carefully in a new culture. The last thing I want to do is offend the people that are my neighbors, no matter how long I intend to stay in a certain place. Whether a week in India, a year in Busan, or a lifetime in the states, I have always tried to live my life in a way that is harmonious to the lives of others around me. Courtesy. Empathy. Compassion. I don't want to make someone feel uncomfortable because of something I have said or done.

This mindset has never before bubbled so close to the surface with such consistency as it has the last six months here in Korea. I've been careful about how I eat, what I eat, what I wear, where I put my chopsticks after my meal, how I greet people. Almost every element of daily life that I take for granted when home I have been hypersensitive to as I find myself in such a drastically different place.

I'm not saying that is not a bad thing. That is how I have learned to live in the Korean way (or as close to it as a non-Korean speaking foreigner can).

However, at some point I have let this sensitivity to these cultural differences stop me from living my life. I have let my new city stop me from doing the things I want to do to live forward and work ahead in my career.

As this page is titled, I am a wandering musician. I play the flute. I am a classically trained orchestral musician. With this title comes a huge responsibility: practicing. Practicing daily. Practicing when you don't want to. Practicing the things that sound terrible. Running drills, scales, arpeggios. Technical work that I love. Long tones that are low. Long tones that are high. Long tones that seem like they will never end. Breathing exercises. Yoga. Meditation.

The first six months in Korea I barely touched my flute. I felt a bit lost. I was caught up trying to figure out my future career because I was ignoring the one that I truly loved. I was trying to change who I am into something I'm not.

This is not Koreas fault. I am not blaming my location.

Instead it was a complex culmination of countless different factors that have been building since before I finished my Masters degree. But therein lies a different blogpost.

Right now I'm looking forward. I've stopped being afraid of offending my neighbors and have picked up my instrument again. I'm applying for festivals, masterclasses, and orchestral auditions. I'm practicing (within decent hours), I'm exercising (outside of those decent hours), and I'm living my life in the truest form that I can.

You see I'm still being sensitive to my neighbors. I don't play my flute before 8 am or after 9 pm. I refrain from high piccolo work in my apartment (because really, nobody deserves that torture). I'm still conscious of cultural difference and carry myself in a way that resonates with these new cultural norms. But I am no longer changing all of who I am to make sure that others are happy. This was never my intention, but it was essentially what was happening.

It's time for me to do me. It's time for me to live shamelessly because that is who I am.

It's time to live unapologetically.

On Perspective: Waking Up in the Middle of the Bed

I often get terrible migraines. The type of headache that make you feel like you're going to vomit, that make your eyes throb and your teeth hurt. These headaches can last for days at a time and leave you in fear that they might recur at a moments notice.

My migraines are triggered by many things: what I eat, how much I drink, what I drink, how much sleep I've gotten, whether or not my neck is out of alignment, and sometimes they strike for what seems like no reason at all. It starts out harmlessly enough - a slight tension in the neck and head, a flicker of light, an inexplicable feeling of dread. But soon my eyes begin to feel sore and heavy, my temples start to throb, my forehead (just above the sinuses) begins to feel thick and tight. The migraine has begun.

The problem is that I get headaches frequently - it's even become a bit of a joke with my friends. "Oh, sorry, I can't have that. Red food dye gives me migraines," I'll say as they roll their eyes. There's always a bit of a headache hidden behind my thick skull, so it's easy for me to mistake these regular headaches for an incoming migraine.

After so many years you would think I would know better. Unfortunately my body is constantly changing, what was once a trigger is no longer, and what is a trigger now may never have been a problem before. This causes a host of new problems when I find myself, say, in Korea experiencing a new culture and environment - a new climate, new diet, new physical demands on my body, new everything - each of these exciting new experiences have the potential to be a new trigger.

But this is where the durability of the human body and mind reasserts itself.

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I woke up in the middle of the bed. You know, there's a wrong side and a right side. The crab-ass in line at Starbucks woke up on the wrong side; the whistling jolly woman woke up on the right. But here I was, in the middle and not sure which way I would turn.

On one hand I had just awaken from an eleven hour migraine-induced slumber. My neck was tight, my head felt raw, and I was more than a little afraid to move. On the other hand, I was awake. I no longer felt tears running down my face from the pressure in my skull. It was a new day.

I stood up. This is always the first test. Does standing make the blood rush through your body re-establishing the throbbing, pounding pain? Today it didn't. Bathroom break. Back to the bed. Sit down. There. I had just stood up twice and sat down twice and the headache hadn't returned. Success.

The right side it is.

 A big breakfast followed by a delicious homemade latte left me the smiling fool walking to the bus. The world was clear, lacking the migraine haze, I was happy. 

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It's amazing to me how such pain can leave me feeling so happy the next day. It's as if my body attacks itself as a way of reminding me how fortunate I am. By crippling me and leaving me craving the merest of essentials (water, adequate food, sleep) it allows me to appreciate the rest of my experiences.

The migraine that I loathe, the pain that I hate, and the experiences that I could do without never cease to remind me of the beauty in the world. It sounds cliched and it probably is, but without those negative and awful experiences I wouldn't be as ready to marvel in the mundane.

I hate to say it, but sometimes I'm grateful for my migraines. They force me to remind myself to take care of my body, to release the tension and stress from my perspective, and to appreciate the world for what it is - a hard and relentless place where one can find beauty and pain. Happiness and stress.

We have the choice. We all have different problems, whether physical or mental, and we all struggle with them at times. But I've learned that I have two options: I can dwell on the negative and wish things were different, or I can allow for the bad things to happen and let them remind me of all of the good things. I can do my best to make sure that the migraines don't return, but at some point I will slip-up, something will happen that I don't expect, or my body will change again and I"ll have a host of new triggers to look out for. But I can be happy, even with all of that.

It all depends on which side of the bed I decide to roll onto when I wake up in the morning.