I love staying up late at night. It's my time to settle down for the day and allow my thoughts jump into reflective overdrive about the day's events or what is to come. Tonight is no exception. It's the night before Easter and I watch the movie Babel with my dad. Many scenes from the movie depict the frenzied and high octane city of Tokyo. A myriad of lights glitter across the skyline of the city; the pulse of the city was beats until dawn. I sit here silently stunned as I envision myself walking into a similar scene when I arrive in Seoul. What will my life be like over there? Why do I feel driven to go somewhere so foreign and obscure from the safety net of home? These questions plague me, consume me, frighten me, delight me, entice me.
I do not understand or even want to understand this magnetic pull to the unknown. The only rationale that brings me any sort of comfort is the gift of connection that come from these types of decisions. I learn and connect with another someone or something in a small yet amazing way. It makes the world feel smaller and less divided in my mind. I take solace and enjoyment in this connection, especially during these dark moments where everything can feel disjointed. I learn to view to this pull as a gift rather than a nomadic curse. As the Tokyo skyline fades into the credits, I looked at the clock. Midnight. Another day closer to the actual start of this adventure. The pull continues to ebb and flow, but my decision is intact. I will movoe to Korea and face the unknown with trepidation and eager anticipation. I wonder what their skyline will look like.
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