Caption of Hae Shin
Oh hey there! You’ll never believe the incredible day I’ve had today.
So, imagine this, I started my morning wrapped in the serenity of Namsan Botanical Gardens, where the air is crisp and filled with the whispers of nature awakening. It’s our little ritual, you know? Finding that perfect spot for my hammock and just letting go. And today, as the sun tickled the horizon, I thought to myself, “How lucky am I to witness this quiet symphony every time it graces the morning sky?” It felt like the universe wrapped itself around me like a warm embrace, encouraging my mission and reminding me of those early memories with my mom and that injured bird. It’s funny how a place so tranquil can ignite a rush of purpose within you.
Michael and I then dashed off to this traditional Korean calligraphy workshop at the Seoul Calligraphy Art Museum, which was such a delightful shift in the day’s rhythm. Have you ever tried it? The entire ambiance of the place was steeped in history and a kind of respect for the art form that felt incredibly tangible. Watching Michael try to control the brush was both hilarious and endearing, especially since he kept joking about his disastrous attempt with pottery before. We ended up having these moments where time felt like it flowed differently, like the world paused for our brushstrokes.
At one point, we locked eyes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as his carefully drawn letters gradually turned into swollen blobs of ink. My heart, however, felt so full—just being there, partaking in such a centuries-old tradition, that every mistake seemed like a masterpiece teaching us patience and the art of letting go. The artisans guiding us were magnificent storytellers. They weaved tales of cultural anecdotes, giving each brushstroke a voice that resonated with life, much like the heartbeat of an unforgettable melody. It’s remarkable how art, in its gentle way, invites us into these deeply personal reflections.
And speaking of reflections, the dance class with Mei-Lin at Seoul Performing Arts Studio was an entirely new kind of freeing experience. Picture this: a room alive with echoes of laughter, all of us captured in a whimsical dance where the boundaries of form melted away, and spontaneity became our rhythm. Oh, and Mei-Lin was adamant we “twin” in sync, which was absolutely hysterical given my two left feet!
The chaos made it oddly beautiful, though. Each movement was like writing stories with our bodies, and even as I stumbled through a couple of twists and turns, it felt liberating. The instructor encouraged us to let the movements convey our stories, and amidst a mix of fumbles and fallacies, my veterinarian hands, so used to precision, embraced the fluidity. Even Mei-Lin had jokes about how the wild spins reminded her of the vivid tales we shared over drinks about our traveling adventures.
By the time the class ended, I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror, a gratifying revelation that despite my initial nervousness, the freedom in movement uncovers a beauty you didn’t know you were crafting. Each bead of sweat glistening under the studio’s lights symbolized anew our fears being shed like skins we no longer needed.
So even amidst all the hustle and bustle, today has reminded me of this exhilarating dance between tradition and unadulterated freedom – two seemingly contrasting endeavors, yet both enrich the spirit in a wonderful harmony.
I realized, during the dance session with Mei-Lin, that when you’re spinning and twirling, it feels a bit like stepping into an alternate universe. Each stumble leads to a fresh discovery about my rhythm and maybe even life, to be honest.
Mei-Lin, bless her vibrant heart, was laughing with me, not at me, and I think that made all the difference. She has such a contagious enthusiasm that it’s impossible not to get caught up in the moment. I found myself actually shedding some of that structured control I meticulously maintain in the surgery room—perhaps twisting the notion of what control really means. In a way, it was liberating, a reminder that loosening up can be a vital part of any endeavor.
As we danced, the instructor delivered a piece of wisdom that resonated with me. “In dance,” she said, “as in life, there will be moments you feel unsteady. Trust your body’s memories, and let it guide you where words cannot.” Every movement became an instinctive rendition harmonizing with my year’s mission of embracing where life leads, unpredictability and all. Without realizing it, we embodied this gorgeous tapestry of human expression, bridging cultural nuances and individual stories—how marvelous that simple movements can convey such depth.
And you know what? At that moment, I glimpsed this fascinating tapestry inside every person in the room. It was a cornucopia of stories written with limbs and looks, each unique as a fingerprint yet tied by threads of spontaneity. That’s the thing about sharing experiences—every dive into something artistic opens you to others in unexpected, memorable ways. Between laughter and twirls, I could feel our stories knot together like a fabric of endless possibility.
Reflecting upon the calligraphy with Michael, earlier in the day, our conversation lingered over the artisans’ stories. Those narratives, represented so deftly with each brushstroke, seemed to illuminate a path through the folds of time, back to those quiet mornings in the Hanok Village. Michael jokingly referred to his wayward strokes as ‘modern interpretive calligraphy,’ and, honestly, I think he’s onto something there. There’s a beauty in unfiltered expression, unconfined by conventional bounds, wouldn’t you agree?
It’s almost like life is subtly telling us to embrace these imperfect artful endeavours as teaching methodologies—asodhighlight emphasizing beauty in every misshapen brushstroke or misstep encountered. Despite possible setbacks, each effort builds a grander mosaic of life experience, doesn’t it?
Our venture wasn’t about creating perfection; rather, it was about linking the intentions behind our strokes, just like weaving dance steps or piecing together memories from a lifetime. This day became an anthology of experiences—each page adorned with a slight mishap or a gracious recovery. I swear, by sunset, as we saw our creations dry, it felt as though we grew, not just as individuals, but as a collective—a reminder that every line drawn, every move made, is an essential lyric in the grand song of existence.
Oh, and you know what I realized during the calligraphy session with Michael today? There’s this profound familiarity in art forms themselves, like a harmonious echo of the universe somehow mirroring our humble attempts to express it. Watching Michael, though hesitant at first, reminded me of those moments back in veterinary school—when everything felt new and daunting but thrilling at the same time. As I glanced at my brush, I wondered about the parallels between these delicate black strokes and my early encounters with medicine, where each step demanded care and precision.
And, of course, there was this moment when we both just paused, the ink slowly spreading across the thin parchment underneath. It was like watching time effortlessly unfurl, each ripple a testament to the countless stories embedded in history. Those artisans, with their expressive and wise eyes, shared tales about Korea’s cultural heritage, as vivid as the ink etching its mark onto paper. Their stories were like threads weaving through the tapestry of our experience, grounding us more in the present, yet hinting at the depth of what’s yet to come.
Now, switch gears with me to the dance class. Mei-Lin brings this infectious joy, doesn’t she? It’s no secret that I had a few stumbles—and managed to pull off a twirl entirely backwards—but the energy in that room was nothing short of exhilarating! The more I let go, the more I learned to trust the rhythm, much like the way our bodies adapt to the tempo of life.
The instructor’s words kept ringing in my ears: “Every step, every movement is a unique imprint.” It felt like an invitation to embrace life’s imperfect rhythm. And Mei-Lin, bless her comedic take on life, swooped by reminding me how each fall was nothing more than a prelude to an even more spectacular rise. Her sharp, playful comments turned the mistakes into moments of shared laughter, illustrating there’s strength in vulnerability if only we stop fearing it.
It made me think more deeply about the way my days unfold—like a partnership of arts, from surgery precision to garden cultivating, each aspect rhythmically symbiotic with the other. The dance classroom transitioned into a metaphorical stage, where life pirouetted between focused control and wild creativity, and can you imagine a more freeing mechanism for letting go than a wild spin through a crowded room full of strangers letting loose together?
Catch up with you soon, there’s more to share as the days unfold!
