Faith

34 hours. You know it's getting close when you start counting down in hours instead of days! The reality of Korea continues to sink further into my being. It still doesnt all seem quite real to me, but it's getting closer and I find myself more emotional just thinking about it. I dont think I can say enough times what an overwhelming (in a good way) and powerful journey - pilgrimage really - of self-discovery this is going to be. I'm ready for it!

As much as I always say I believe things happen for a reason and that everything will turn out how it's supposed to, I think closer to the surface than I cared to admit, I really didnt buy it. It just seemed like a glamorous and hopeful way to frame the crap we step in in life and to, at least for me, have a rational excuse, a justification, to get out of doing the hard work in whatever situation. And while I maintained this nonchalant, kick my feet up attitude, inside, my body was screaming out in pain and agony as I desperately tried to fit square peg after square peg into round hole after round hole.

What does faith mean anyway? Growing up, faith always carried a religious connotation. Faith in the Lord, faith in the Spirit, faith in Christ, faith in God, faith in a life guided by God, etc. etc. But I have never felt like I had that kind of faith. Without going into a discussion of my spiritual beliefs (perhaps another blog), what I can say is that I just kind of clumsily crashed my way through life. In hindsight, it doesnt appear I had any true direction. I had direction I thought I was supposed to go. I had direction I really wanted to go, but I never felt like I was able to trust in anything to guide me except myself with a death grip on the reins.


It's interesting the timing of this trip. With some major life changes that have been happening to me and a reacquainting myself with myself, this upcoming trip is really having quite an impact on my way of being with myself and within the world. It feels good. I feel more free. I feel better about myself and in turn, I am a better person in the spaces I occupy. My mind feels clearer and my body feels more relaxed and at ease even when I step in life's crap. As I've blogged about memories, thoughts, feelings, wonders, etc. associated with this trip, I feel as if a part of me that I never knew was in there has emerged. Without even questioning why or really even wondering, I've just let it come out and come into this world and come into its own. It feels pretty amazing and this emergence of this different level of me I guess has really helped me feel more united within myself. With this unification has come more clarity and peace of mind.

What is faith to me today? As I have evolved over the past handful of months getting ready for this trip, I have realized what faith is to me. Faith is letting go and letting whatever will be be. No questions. No attachments. No interpreted or manufactured meaning. Just being for the sake of being. It's a very Buddhist kind of thinking I think, but it's really allowed me to exist in a place of peace and serenity and it's been awhile since I've felt serene in my life. I've mentioned before how I am a scheduler, a planner, and organized. I like to know the answers. I like guarantees in life. I like certainty. This trip and my emotional journey as it draws closer has really taught me, without even an intentional lesson, to have faith. It's all I can have. No matter how hard I try, that square peg will never fit into that round hole. No matter how much I try and control a situation or worry about someone elses life, I will always be neglecting myself. No matter how much I search for the answers I think there should be, I'll never find them. I think in order to authentically mean and believe it when I say everything happens for a reason, I really do have to have faith in that and that the meaning will have its meaning for its meaning's sake, not mine.


When I translate this into my own personal ways of moving about in this world, I feel as if it is easier for me to have faith in myself, in other people, in circumstances and situations, and to have faith in the universe that it will not let me down. I have absolutely no idea what awaits me in Korea. I have no idea what experiences I will have, what emotions I will have, what I will see, and what it will all mean to me. In order to have the fullest and truest experience in this very necessary and meaningful journey, I really have been able to let go and let be. I have found my faith.

My Body Remembers

Like a geode rock whose beautifully wonderous center is revealed only after years of erosion or a single shattering crack of a rock hammer. Like the mountains and the prairies, the lakes and the rivers, and even our own bodies - underlayers and innerlayers revealed more and more after years of weathering, enduring extremes, and the shedding away of old skins as the years go by. Like a well-worn path whose gravel core reveals itself after many wanderers have traveled its course. And like a mother's womb, I have held you inside and nourished this thing that I could not see, yet I could feel you ever present each day of my life.

As the years have gone by and my skin has shed layers and my body and mind have evolved and endured the extremes and been shaped by the weather, and as my core has become more exposed, I am releasing you into the world - that which I have held inside for 32 years. You have been a part of me. Your beginnings developed inside of me and I have carried you over the roughest terrain, through the harshest of conditions, and into blissfully peaceful lands. Now you are beginning to emerge and as you stand outside of me, but still very much connected to me through the strongest of emotional ties - ties that will never be broken - together we prepare to walk this path.

Memories of my land, my ancestors, my people, my home. Memories of my birth family and my birth mother. Memories of being separated from my birth mother, the orphanage, and the experiences I had for the first six and a half months of my life. Memories of getting ready to come to Minnesota and memories of needing to wait another two months because of a full plane. Memories of the final plane ride. Memories of leaving my land, my ancestors, my people, my home. Memories of being welcomed into forever loving arms. Finally. Arms that would love me and never let me go. Forever arms - forever hugs, forever comfort, forever safety and security, forever love. Memories...

...Memories...


I have held these memories inside my body. And in a symbolic birthing of what has been inside me for so long, they have emerged at the surface and are radiating from my core. I will forever hold these memories and they will forever hold me, but their emergence is coming as I am being called back home. At the very least, this thing that originated inside of me, that I have carried, and that is now being birthed, at the very least it all will be reunited, reconnected, reacquainted, and remembered by where it all began.

Circle

Just over three days and counting. I am feeling a cosmic pull or sorts. This trip has evolved from a fantasy to a reality full of questions, doubts, and technicalities, to a trip of professional opportunity and some personal, to an extremely deeply personal journey - a quest, a calling, a spiritual awakening, however, not in a religious sense.

A friend of mine told me about an annual event that took place on his reservation - a calling home of all the warriors (individuals who had been lost from the reservation). As an adopted individual, he was among those warriors being called home. This calling the lost warriors home takes place every year until all of them are back home. I think that's such a beautiful thing. I now have this feeling of being called home as I get ready to embark on this incredible journey.

I received a card in the mail today from some long time family friends who have known my sister (also adopted Korean) and me for most of our lives. Of the extremely sweet gesture of sending me off with a message of love and support, one line stuck out to me: "I feel honored to watch you on this journey from the time you were quite young - to the return today you have come full circle."

Full circle...Full circle...Full circle...

Life takes so many twists and turns. It's filled with an awesome range of emotions and experiences that span from intense pain and agony to the purest of joy, happiness and love. Sometimes I think it's quite unbelievable just what it is our bodies, minds, and souls endure - the crap we can make it through and the greatness that seems to continue to carry us forward. When I think about the various experiences I have had in life, I feel as if they are circular journeys that will eventually come around and the end will meet the beginning. Perhaps this is a simplistic way to view what are no doubt highly complex systems that spin and spin and spin as we make our way through this thing called life. In my own experiences, upon reflection, I feel that in some ways I have come full circle as I continue to navigate the various life highways, roads, paths, and routes that have no paths but lots of tall grass, biting flies, snakes, and mud. Each experience to me is its own complete package - some more delightful than others of course, but each one unique and full of lessons to be learned, and sometimes lots of bandaids for those rougher patches. And of course some with no bandaids at all - not even a safety net or warning sign! Regardless, it's still a whole and complete experience and each of those experiences has shaped who I have become as I've continued to evolve into who I am today and who I will be in all of the tomorrows still headed my way.

In three days and counting, I will begin the last stretch of this particular life circle as I am being pulled home. No matter what I find out or dont find out about my beginnings, just being in and on the land that I came from is enough to complete this missing piece. My searching roots will finally find the soil they came from and When I Touch the Land in Korea, I will indeed have come full circle to my beginning.

The Sign on My Door

This morning I let my artistic talents flow and drew a Korean Flag on the dry erase board on my office door. I felt compelled to keep a countdown to this trip. My first blog entry was when the trip was three and a half weeks away. As I sit here typing, my trip is 6 days away! For the most part, it still seems unreal, but as we are now well into the single digits, and as I was carefully crafting my Korean flag on my door, suddenly it started to sink in more that this is really going to happen and it's really going to happen to me! I find myself jutting, literally, back and forth in my core between excitement, nervousness, and some kind of complete emotional whoosh! It's the best way I can describe it - a whoosh that courses through my body and infiltrates even the tiniest of places. The feeling is amazing and I feel more and more that this trip is going to be a giant page turn in my book. In fact, it just might mark a significant end to one part of my life, and a brand new beginning to the next part. The best thing is, and it's odd to say this, that I have no idea what that next part will look like, but I am looking forward to figuring that out as I go. I cant remember another time in my life when I have been more at peace with letting go and letting whatever will be...be.

Afraid of the Dark

That morning I rolled over and looked at you. The sunlight peered its way in through the cracks in the shades, blinds, curtains...I can't even remember what adorned the windows to the bedroom. It doesn't matter. I watched you as you slept - still caught in the innocence and beauty of sleep and dreaming. Your eyelids flickered as your brain raced through whatever imagery I could only imagine you were witnessing behind closed eyes. And for that moment, what I had done was forgotten.

It must have been just a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. As my gaze was fixated on how beautiful you looked when you slept and the pureness of what would soon be a fresh start to the day, a new beginning, my mind raced through the hurt that would be caused if you ever found out. How could I have done this? What will happen next? I wanted so desperately for that moment to never end. If I stirred and you woke, this perfect uninterrupted bubble would be broken forever. I would never be able to patch the holes, mend the seams, or rebuild what would be lost. Those moments that you slept, just before your dreaming mind slowly eased you into consciousness, those moments were the beginning of the end. It was coming.

Flash forward.

We were walking and I was holding your hand. Our hands always seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. It sounds cliche, but there was a comfort in how they formed around each other. We talked a little about general topics - the day, new ideas, what to have for dinner, those random and seemingly unimportant things that in that moment were the most important words that could and did fill in impending void. And while our conversation was lighthearted and casual and my interactions with you comfortable and routine, I felt like a complete stranger in your presence. The person you were walking hand in hand with and talking to just as we always had, this person had something to tell you, but was frozen with fear to reveal with scathing honesty a story that would upset the delicate balance we had worked so hard for so long to create and maintain.

I noticed your smile and the way your hair fell around your face. The smell in the air on that beautiful day was refreshing and awoken my senses. Even while harboring my secret, I was able to enjoy this time with you and I felt as if my body had become saturated with every detail of that moment - you and your visually poetic movements, the air in all its sweetness and richness, the sounds of our feet on the pavement and the delicate crunch of the small pebbles and scattered smears of sand under our shoes, the cars passing by as they rushed away to unknown destinations, and the faint muddled conversations of other people we passed. I wondered if anyone else out that afternoon was also experiencing a similar comfortably surreal moment just as I was. This was my life here in this present moment, yet what I had done was also my life. The two just never met in front of you.

Flash forward.

I made up a story for you. It was one I thought you might like between the tears and heavy sobs, between the heartbreak and devastation, and between the helpless feeling of not having one ounce of control. Trust me, this was a good story. Had I told you a more factual story,...well, let's just be thankful I didn't. And honestly, it doesn't matter. I'm not sure it will ever matter. Not to you anyway. For me? Oh, it matters. It mattes alot, however, I've been able to tell this same story so many times that I've gotten really good at it. While it may seem effortless, what you don't see or even know is the tremendous destruction and emotional death that it causes in me. Nope, I keep that chapter to myself. I can't even imagine ever letting anyone see that chapter. I can barely stand to look at it. But it's there and it only grows longer. It's become a twist that, at first, was meant to lighten the mood, be entertaining to a degree, and keep things simple and easy. Unfortunately, this twist is pretty knotted up and I'm having difficulty in untying the knots.

You bought the story at least as far as I can tell. I move on. You move on. For me though, rather than starting a new book, I pretty much flip to the beginning and start this book over. Why bother trying something new when this one works so well? More accurately, I've grown accustomed and familiar with this book. No matter how terrible of a story it is, no matter how many times no one wins in the end, no matter how inaccurate each detail becomes, I've gotten really good at telling it. How can I give up something I am actually good at? How can I change the same show that people expect from me? How can I change what I expect from myself?

Flash forward.

Fear.

Fear of loneliness. Fear of sadness. Fear of crying. Fear of holding on too tight. Fear of letting go. Fear of my anger. Fear of what I miss. Fear of loss - incredible loss. Fear of mourning. Fear of loving. Fear of commitment. Fear of honesty. Fear of trust. Fear of losing control. Fear of someone else beating me to it. Fear of the unknown. Fear of faith. Fear of life sometimes. Fear of reasons. Fear of excuses. Fear of death. Fear of illness. Fear of attachment. Fear of abandonment. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of not being important enough. Fear of hurting. Fear of losing direction. Fear of personal investment. Fear of emotions. Fear of trusting too much. Fear of giving too much. Fear of my insecurities. Fear of my vulnerabilities. Fear of being picked last. Fear of never being truly happy. Fear of being lied to. Fear of insensitivity. Fear of bad communication. Fear of myself sometimes. Fear of you.

How do you become unafraid of the dark when the dark constantly protects you, soothes you, and creates a seemingly unbeatable barrier that you can hide behind and feel safe and secure even though it's a false sense of safety and security and you're still scared of it? How do you become unafraid of the monsters beneath your bed when the monsters have also encouraged you to tell your stories over and over again even though you know it's wrong and you're still scared of them? How do you jump off that cliff into the bottomless pit full of darkness and monsters when the cliff has kept you high above the muck?

How do I become unafraid when there is so much to be afraid of?

Friday, August 6th

I received an email today from my contact at Lutheran Social Service. Arrangements have been confirmed, per my request, to visit KSS and have a file review on Friday, August 6th at 2pm. I am hoping I get to visit the receiving home as well. I am flooded with emotions of all kinds and it is difficult to sort them out. I could find no new news or I could finally start to have a few vague answers to some of the unanswered questions I have about who I am. What I do know right this moment is that on that day, case number KL-2530 Lee, Cho Hee (my Korean name) and Shawyn Lee will meet each other - the past and the present will finally become one, however that may look.

Unanswered Questions & Institutional Control

Gaps. Divides. Absences. Void. Emptiness. Darkness. Unanswered questions. Holes. Missing pieces. Loneliness. Unknowns. Incomplete. Uncertain. Gray areas. Blanks. Forgotten. Taken. Masked. Covered up...

Lies, lies, lies...

Over the past handful of months, I have found myself engaged in a variety of conversations about the adoptee experience in terms of the stories we were told, what we know of our adoption, the lies and secrets uncovered, and the struggle to function as whole complete selves without ever really feeling whole and complete. The missing pieces of our histories, our identities, our experiences, have fragmented our lives into disjointed chapters with no root beginning and endings filled with question marks.


Who better to be in charge of our own selves than our own selves right? One would think this makes perfect sense. No other person knows us better than we know ourselves. It seems that for alot of adoptees, the adoption institutions, channels, pipelines, that we have traveled through retain our information, yet we are not permitted to know all of it. These institutions get to be selective on what, if any, information is given to the adoptee seeking information about the history of their existence. This is completely absurd, appalling, disturbing, and upsetting to say the least! I know there are policies and regulations in place, or so we've been told, that put jurisdiction on what we can and cannot know. But, in whose best interest are these policies and regulations? And are adoptees the ones putting those policies and regulations in place? Um, that would be a big NO! People in post-adoption services seem to have no clue whatsoever on the incredibly painful, emotional, and frustrating journeys many adoptees go on, to varying degrees, to try and fill in the gaps and missing pieces of their lives, their beginnings, their existence in this world! The toll it takes on a person is intense as they begin to search for their life. And the people we need the most in finding and understanding critical information about our identities are usually those who look at us as suspect and will perpetuate the secrecy, the lies, and the hidden truths.

I've heard many adoptees talk about such intensely painful experiences trying to get information. As someone very recently said to me in so many words, as adoptees, we are products that were sold off and bought by consumers. The product is not supposed to complain. I'm having a very difficult time wrapping my head around the notion of someone having access to my history, my missing links, the answers to my unanswered questions, and potentially not giving me that information when I ask for it and in turn blasting me with a line of interrogative questioning as if I am on trial and have deceitful alternative motives when all I really want to do is know who I am. While I can believe large institutions, especially those driven by a multi-billion dollar profit, would without question be strategic about what information is disclosed and how that disclosure happens, if it happens at all, there is also a large part of me that cannot believe that an institution, comprised of PEOPLE, would behave that way! I AM a product, whether I like it or not. I am a human being that was trafficked, whether I like it or not. How ever I ended up in the orphanage, while I was chosen, I was bought and sold by my native country. Well this human trafficked product who was bought and sold is complaining! I'm wanting, needing, DEMANDING answers! And I, of anyone...ANYONE...deserves the right to know about myself sans interrogation, suspicion, and refusal by ANY institution!

In all my thinking and processing of this upcoming trip both just within myself and as I've networked and talked with others, while I know I may very well come back with way more questions than answers, I also feel like I am on the verge of this major discovery about myself and my life, and it could be severely halted with that immediate stoppage being completely out of my control. What will I do? As much as I try to not let the curiosity and anticipation grow, I am only human. To not be able to obtain any information would definitely be a let down. To run into the bureaucracy of adoption institutions that prevent me from obtaining all information would definitely be a let down. To know that I've come so close during perhaps a once in a lifetime opportunity would be devastating - let's not kid ourselves. And if any of these factors happen to be true for me, how do I find my own closure on all of this? How would I be able to return to my happy naive little life? And seriously knowing that's not possible, how do I move on from that point? I could ask myself these questions over and over and over again and I know that I won't know anything until I am there going through, or attempting to go through the process.

We all have our origins. We all have life experiences. We all have uniquely rich and individual pasts - histories. And we all have amazing stories to tell. As I've moved into and through adult life so far, I see evidence all the time of my missing pieces - the holes and gaps in my life and in myself. In a constant effort to be as whole, complete, and as well-cared-for of a self that I can be, I feel as if I need these answers. For so many years I was oblivious to my identities as a Korean and a Korean Adoptee. The floodgates have opened now and my curiosity, my need to know my whole self, and my seemingly instinctual desire to get back to and understand my home home, are driving this quest that has now been set forth in unstoppable motion. It's become this thing I HAVE TO do and I have to do it all the way.


Up until this point, I had never considered searching for my birth family. Even now, the thought of the process, the navigation of this process, and the extreme emotional toll, make it seem impossible, however, what if those answers are out there for me to be had and all I had to do was look? I'm not sure I can pass up that opportunity. And if it will give me clarity on who I am, I feel myself moving, with no conscious effort of my own, into this automatic need to connect on all levels to my roots so that When I Touch the Land in Korea, I am truly touching all of me.