A new perspective on old things

The sun is working overtime today. You can tell rains are about to come because the air is so thick you can eat it. Of course, the rains are due to arrive saturday - convenient for any weekend plans involving the great wide-open. Such is life.

June seems to have steamrolled by without even stopping to say hello. (Side note: It was in June that I decided it was a good idea to fly to China for the weekend to play in an ultimate frisbee tournament. It turned out I was correct, it was a good idea). With a few days left before July, all I can think about is my good family back home. This month is blessed with my Mother, Brother, and Sister's birthdays, as well as Father's day. One holiday for each of my family members (besides me of course), and I can't be there to celebrate along side of them.

So, I send my love to you from here. Mom, Matt, Anna - HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And Pop, thank you for being my dad. I've definitely enjoyed it.

It's an interesting experience to be taken out of your element. To see how you function in an unknown place, in unknown circumstances. Being in Korea is far from being "out of my element", but it has been a chance to discover myself, to push myself outside the protection of any comfort zone, to 'see what I'm made of' so to speak. What has surfaced is a realization of who I am, or rather who I didn't know I was.

I've discovered I like painting. I had never actually tried it because I have friends and family that are really talented artists back home. Here, I've allowed myself to explore "me" beyond the limitations of who I thought I was. What I found was there is a peace and intensity in the solitude of painting that I really like. The finished product doesn't really say much, but luckily, I was never expecting it to. I just paint because it's fun.

Oddly enough, I turned out to be quite a good cook as well. I was never the child to attempt the meal preparations back home, because it seemed I was the only Kleinschmidt that couldn't cook. This, I have discovered, was a thinly veiled rouse. In fact, it was most likely sheer laziness that prevented me from entering the kitchen. Living alone, I have been thrown in the deep end. I cook or I do not eat. And, as it turns out, I was listening to those seasoning talks dad gave from his stove soap box all those years.

What I've come to understand about myself is this: I've gotten stuck into thinking I am this one person and no one else. I have these abilities, qualities, strengths, and that's that. Korea has been an exercise in upsetting those notions. So for that, Korea, I am thankful.