No matter how I spend my days, I eventually find myself walking my late evenings away. Circuiting the neighborhood at a brisk pace grounds me once again and puts the vexations of the day back into perspective. I forget about the morning's escapade with the furnace, 14 hours of ninja boy, the meltdowns of the evening. I find I can nearly forgive those I am endeavoring not to hold a grudge against (only to discover, when exposed, that, yes, I am indeed still angry).
In the isolation of my home, my insulation wears thin, and I come close to shorting out. Now, once or twice around my circuit, the fire is out of my temper, and the spark is back in my step. I am still struggling with the same issues: how to make time to do something both meaningful and profitable and still spend time and attention on my children, how to raise my children in two cultures that seem mutually exclusive, how to find my own identity as well as support my husband's and nurture my children's, how to walk the fine line that is community relations. But the issues are less pressing, and maybe now I can redirect my current. Instead of shocking those I touch, I hope to provide a warm glow, a beacon, and a resource of energy to accomplish the work that lies before us all.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Here it is. The first post. Who is a person? Do they become or are they already? So I write. What does that mean to who I feel I am--a mom, a wife, an American who is and is not Korean? How does that fit with the unspoken longings of the heart that defy words? That is what I mean to explore.