Study

Not long ago, I was asked whether there had been a time in my life when I felt depressed. There is always a period that comes to mind. I had wanted to rest, but could not. There was nothing that brought me particular joy, nothing I was reaching toward. On top of that, the environment I was in — surrounded by people who seemed to be the complete opposite of me — was perfectly suited to deepen that sense of heaviness.

When I confessed to this period, I was asked again: wouldn't high school have been the hardest time? Even pausing to think back, that wasn't quite it. I had thought there was nothing to do — or rather, nothing I could do — except study, as a student. A life with no choices becomes simpler, and becoming simpler strips away unnecessary emotion. What remains is only the quiet, steady business of living.

That said, the studying itself wasn't something I particularly enjoyed back then. There were moments of pleasure — learning something I hadn't known, watching a test score rise as a result — but I had no say in what I studied. And even if I had been given the chance to choose, I probably wouldn't have been able to decide easily. I was at an age where I had far too little experience to know what I liked or wanted, and I didn't know myself well enough for that.

Still, one subject I found somewhat interesting was English. Memorizing words in an unfamiliar language, not my native tongue, learning grammar, and then being able to parse a sentence — and beyond that, understanding the meaning of a whole passage — there was a pleasure in that. My teenage self, who couldn't confidently answer what my dream was, chose English literature as a major with the feeling that I had to pick something. A major begun with that kind of heart was never going to be exciting. For a long time in my life, studying and enjoyment kept quite a distance from each other.

It must have been around the third night in Bali. After walking around for a long while under the blazing sun, I had returned to my accommodation, lying down to rest. After an hour or two, the sun had set, and I went out for an evening walk. I stopped in at a café and ordered a piccolo. A moment later the coffee arrived, and on top of it was a beautiful latte art — a little duck drawn in the foam. Having no idea how one would even begin to draw a duck on a coffee, I sipped at it slowly, reluctant to let the duck disappear. Just then, the staff member who had made the coffee came over and kindly asked how it was. I told her it was delicious, and she asked where I was from — a question she had probably already guessed the answer to.

After that, we spoke in Korean. Being able to speak Korean after so long, I think I was the more animated one. When she mentioned she had a Korean name, Yuna, I told her mine. When she said she liked AKMU, I told her I had been loving their recent song too. I asked about her fluent Korean, and she said she had taught herself by watching YouTube. Well, I like Korean dramas, she said shyly, and there was something purely sweet about the way she said it. When I asked how she had gotten so good at making coffee too, she paused for a moment, then said that too, well, I studied, again with that shyness. I don't think the word study had ever sounded so pretty, so innocent to me. I briefly imagined her time — spending hours on her own, slowly learning something simply because she wanted to know more about what she loved. It seemed like her studying and my studying had been somewhat different things. I said goodbye, calling her Yuna, and thought that what she'd said about studying on her own would stay with me for a long time.

College entrance, employment, marriage, raising children — I am living through a time when I have completed at least a few of the so-called quests of life that come one after another. Life seems to have settled into some shape and form by now, and yet I find myself thinking about how much could change depending on the direction I choose from here. I know myself a little better now than I did in those early years when even what I liked was unclear to me, and I've started to want to shape my life into something that suits me well. And I've started to want to fill that process with time spent learning more about the things I love. Thinking about what I do without anyone asking me to, there were two things. One is reading. One is yoga. These days, I study yoga. Now, enjoyment and studying have grown a little closer.

Taking the yin yoga teacher training course, the names of bones I've never heard of in my life, the locations of muscles — all of it is unfamiliar, yet interesting. The personal deadlines I set for when I'll finish the coursework keep getting erased and rewritten, over and over again. It feels like starting fresh every day. But when there is something you are pursuing, something you are aiming for, even if you don't arrive at it exactly, you get a little closer to somewhere near it. I am trying to be a little lazier about the nagging voice that rewrites and erases itself every day. I take as my driving force the simple gladness of having something I want to immerse myself in, to come to know, to build up slowly. I have a feeling I'm going to like the shape of the life that's coming.

Yin Yoga Teacher Training Course with Bernie Clark