My life has just taken yet another turn.

After lengthy deliberation, I've decided NOT to stay in Korea another year. Instead, I'll be coming home in late February, then leaving again for Scotland in late March. I won't be gone nearly as long, but I'm really happy to be going back, especially with such dear friends as Shalome and Sine.

Korea has been wonderful to me (even if my school director has not been :P) But I really have nothing keeping me here. Nothing that can be properly justified anyway. I realised that all the reasons that I had to stay were either delusions, or really not the right reasons to stay.

And so, in February, I shall bid farewell to Seoul and set my sights on my beloved Scotland. I'll really miss my co-workers and all the people at the Buddhist Temple I attend, but such is life. I believe that I've made some valuable friendships here and I'll not lightly let them fade.

So to all of my dear friends back home in Canada: I'll see you in two months!!

I'm so happy that I've decided that the Christmas season has started as of now.

It all started last night with a Facebook photo comment chat with my co-workers. One photo, a couple dozen comments and phenomenal hilarity. We were bouncing lines off each other like an old comedy troupe. It was glorious.

During the next day, after feeling sick and disgusting all week, I felt rejuvenated and happy. It was an amazing and great feeling. My Kindergarten class was less painful than usual. Jenny even told me that she was thankful for me for Thanksgiving :)

Then, at lunch, the school had a Thanksgiving dinner ordered for the kids (American curriculum, so of course, there wasn't even a shout-out to Canadian Thanksgiving in October :P) They ordered it from the Intercontinental Hotel. In a big huge box was a gigantic turkey (with pork stuffing), bread stuffing patties, carrots, sausages wrapped in bacon, baked apples, baked pumpkin...I think that's it. Graham, proudly asserted his masculinity by carving the bird. He even found me the wishbone! :D I immediately stuck the wishbone in the microwave for a few secs to dry it and broke it with Ms Kirstin. Guess who's getting her wish!!! Yay!
Either way, after 9 months of missing out on big holidays and family, a big turkey meal with my co-workers was simply wonderful. The highlight of the whole affair was Dina trying to cut a piece of baked apple with her chopsticks and having a morsel fly into her eye. I missed it and asked what had happened. Here's how it sounded, more or less:
Everyone: *general laughter*
Me: "Whoa! What just happened?"
Dina: "Oh, a rogue piece of apple got into my eye."
Graham: "Rogue apple? More like shrapnel!"
Dina and I, in unison: "APPLE SHRAPNEL!!!"
Except that I didn't manage to get the last bit of "shrapnel" out because I was laughing so hard. Seriously. I laughed so hard that I cried. Oh yeah, also, one of the parents who came in for a conference brought us doughnuts. That was sweet.

Later, one of my class' journal topics was "Describe your favourite teacher. Tell why they're your favourite. etc." All three of the kids in my class said it was me. One of the girls even wrote "When I see Ms Leah, she always smiles at me. I love her smile." It warmed my heart. :D

After school, Graham and I went to Itaewon so he could show me where the foreign food market is (and a cool looking used book store, but it was closed at the time). And now I know where I can get spices and tons of random awesome non-Korean tidbits. I bought whole cloves and Campbell's chicken noodle soup (which I ate as soon as I got home, lol!). I also managed to get deoderant, which is otherwise unattainable in this bloody country!!! WTF! I've been without it for a week. But all is well now :P

There were a whole slew of other little trivial happinesses over the course of the day, but too many to recount here.

I ended the day with a Starbucks Chai. Considering how little money I have right now, I know I shouldn't have done it. But I felt I had to celebrate this splendid day. And I did.

When I got home, an reply from my Dad to an email I sent yesterday was in my inbox. It had my Christmas recipes I requested, and the announcement that he had sent a parcel that I should receive in about 10 days!

But just when I thought the day couldn't get better, when I went to the shop to pick up a few things. The total was 7,100 won. The old man who owns the shop (and loves to practice his English on me :P) said "100 won discount, because you're so beautiful!" It was sweetest little gesture that was really the cherry on the sundae of a fabulous day.

Christmas is here. Now as soon as I get paid, I can decorate!!! Let the good times roll! :D

...The most lonesome Christmas I'll ever have.

But I'll be damned if anyone will be able to tell. Nothing can break my Christmas spirit!

Bring it on.

I had a really enlightening lesson today in my Buddhist study class. I really feel like I need to share it wit all of you! :D

So. The core lesson of the day was one of the key teachings of Zen Buddhism: right speech, right behaviour, and right thoughts. By "right", it doesn't mean right in the way that there's a higher power judging right and wrong. It means acting, speaking and thinking in a kind and compassionate way, creating good karma.

Sunim Ji-Gwang explained the power of one single moment. You hear everywhere "capture the moment", "don't waste the moment" or "live in the moment". People toss around the word "moment" without really thinking about how powerful a moment really is.

A decision is made in a moment. It may take a lot of work to get to that moment, but the actual decision is made in a moment. Kind of like when you're learning something new. You work and work to understand it, then in an instant, you go from darkness to light, that "Ah hah!!!!" feeling. In that same way, the decisions that take a mere moment for our minds to come to (even ones based on long deliberation) affect the whole course of our lives.

It is for this reason that one should be mindful of one's thoughts, words and deeds, because the moment we think, speak or act, we take charge of our own fate. I mean, one unkind word or deed about another person can come back and bite you in the ass, just as a kind one can bring so much good. The idea that I can decide if I'll have a happy life or an unhappy one just by being aware of my own thoughts, actions and words is really extraordinary.

But that's the idea behind Buddhism, deciding the direction of your life by your own actions. There's no god or fate or any being to blame or thank for what happens to you. YOU are the puppeteer pulling the marionette strings of your own life. When you tug on a string, something will move. It's all about cause and effect. It's a big responsibility, taking on the reins of your destiny so completely. It's really hard at first, having nobody to blame but yourself for the shit that happens. But at the same time, when the good happens, you have the satisfaction of knowing that it's by your own good sense that it happened. But for all the responsibility, it also gives you the most incredible sense of freedom.

And to think, all of this responsibility and freedom is contained in a single moment.

Bah, it's really difficult trying to explain what's going through my head right now about this whole moment issue, but this is my attempt. I was really blown away by it, but I can't truly do it justice. I hope that if you're reading this, you'll take a moment to think about moments and truly seize one. Who knows? Maybe it will change your life! :)

I am going to post a story written by one of my students. First, though, the back story:

At the beginning of the term, in an effort to get my advanced girls to write, I convinced them that I was married to the asst. director of the school, but having a love affaire with the male teacher. They loved it and it inspired them to write their own sordid love stories in class. Mission accomplished. Little did I know that I had truly created a monster.

Two months later, two out of the three girls had dropped, but the one left is a 9 year old genius with the memory of an elephant. I found out not only did she remember that I said I was married, but she told the girls in her regular class about it too. So now, there's a whole class of girls creating vocabulary sentences about the Story 'n' Kids love triangle. Whether their teacher was more amused or annoyed, I'm not sure. :P

But this whole silly situation came to a glorious culmination this week. In my advanced writing class last week, we had finished all the work early. I still wanted the girls to write, so I told them that they could write about whatever they wanted to. The child protégée asked "Can I write a love story?" I agreed. She then said that it would be about the teachers. I knew it was about the love triangle I had painted for them at the start of term (I even saw the names on the page) But she wouldn't let me read it until it was finished.

Well, that day was today, and here is the story (corrected, of course and only using initials). It made my day:

Ms L said that she loved Mr G so I wanted to tell Mr J. I told him. He was surprised so he ran to Ms L. Ms L was saying "No, I don't love him". Mr J said, "A told me you did. How could you do that?" So Mr J ran again to me. "It was a lie." I told him. Then I went to Ms L and told her to stop lying. Then, Mr J hid in the bathroom. Suddenly, Mr G kissed [here a little drawing of two people kissing, surrounded by hearts] Ms L, so Mr J spilled water on their lips. Ms L said "What are you doing?" "Don't think of me as a licentious man. You are really rude!" Mr J said. Mr G said "I will tell this story". Ms E learned of it and told it to the President of Korea. The President was really surprised. Mr J had a last kiss before the police caught him. Ms L was so sorry that she died because she was so sad. Mr G was very sad, too. But he became good friends with Mr J. Do you know why? Because they died together in jail. Love stories are always sad.

This story is truly hilarious, but it's gotta end here. I told this girl that the love triangle was just a joke. For the sake of the sanity of her regular teacher, I hope that she spreads the word, lol.

I just surprised myself.

I was halfway through writing a scathing, but thoroughly deserved reply to a ex's recent message, when suddenly, I stopped. I stopped and erased it. He'll not get another word from me.

We had some serious issues to resolve, and I've been trying to resolve them, but he's just so stubborn and proud, he refuses to bend even an inch. In the past, this really irked me. I was just trying to do the right thing, but damn it, he just wouldn't let me.

I always want to do what's best for everyone (or at least, as many as possible), and yes, it's landed me (and sometimes others) in more than a few pots of hot water...But I always did it with a spirit of compassion and the wish to alleviate suffering or sadness in another person, even if it meant more suffering for myself. Maybe suffering is too dramatic a word. I guess, as tacky as it sounds, I just want people I care about to be free of all those bad feelings that come from guilt, worry and grief.

I've been trying so hard to be compassionate and tolerant with this rather delicate issue I have with him. But the last message he send me was the last straw. He thinks so little of me that I've decided to just let it go. End the crusade.

And it made me realise for the first time that sometimes, you just can't fix it. You can't make it better. No matter how good your intentions. It's painful and a little sobering to have to accept that the universal kindness I show to people is not infallible. I guess you just can't win 'em all.

I feel as if I've grown up, just a little. Not enough to consider myself a grown-up by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to mourn a little piece of innocence that has fallen by the wayside, a victim of reality.

Any of you who dream will know that in your average dream, you only use two of your 5 senses: sight and sound.

Two years ago, I had a dream that pushed that limit. In the dream, my sense of touch was especially prominent in two different moments. The dream was about an post-apocalyptic 1984-esque dictatorial take-over of my hometown. I had run out of my house and I was suddenly faced with crowds of people being rounded up and marched away down my street by mean-looking police robots. In one of the crowds, was the man I loved (nobody real, just a romantic fabrication of my own imagination :P). I ran up to him and begged him not to give up so easily. As I pleaded, I put my hands on his cheeks. Even though it was a dream, I consciously made note of how soft they were. The same happened when I ran my fingers through his hair, it was short and silky. Then, when I made a last-ditch effort and tried to actually pull him bodily from the crowd, I felt that his hands were warm and calloused. I got the same remarkable sensory experience when later in the dream, I found him again as member of the resistance. We kissed and I remembered, even after I woke up, the feeling of his warm and moist, but slightly chapped lips.

For this reason, that dream has stuck with me for the last two years (also because I wrote it down in my dream journal when I woke up). But last night, I had a dream that once again toed that line of sensory deprivation in dreams. This time, incorporating the sense of taste.

In this dream, I was backpacking. I had stopped in a town on the Korean East coast. I was sitting on a semi-grassy bank above the beach with some fellow travellers watching people swimming in the water, which was about 50m away. I was wondering where to pitch my tent. I turned to a girl who was sitting near me and asked if this place was good for tent pitching. She looked at me like I was crazy and said that if I wanted to pitch a tent, I would have to go much further up, as this beach has insane tidal levels. Then she pointed toward the water, which was almost at our feet. I grabbed my bag and started climbing the slope to higher ground. For awhile, I didn't know if I would make it, as with each wave, the tide rose about a foot. At one point, A wave washed completely over me and I only escaped being carried off to sea by clinging desperately to the slope. This is when I had that new sense introduced into my dream: taste. As the wave engulfed me, some water got into my mouth and I tasted the distinct salt water of the ocean, which I've only tasted twice in my life. Once when I was about 8 and then again this summer at the mud festival.

It may not seem like such a big deal to taste or feel in your dreams, but the next time you remember a dream, try to recall any senses besides sight and sound. :P

I had a great lunch today. It had nothing to do with the Joe's sandwich and aloe juice that my meal consisted of, but of what I did during said lunch.

As sometimes happened, I was alone this lunch, Gina was on her laptop, Dina was feeling ill and lying down, and Graham had gone home. But instead of gabbing lunch and reading in my classroom as I usually do when this happens, I thought that since it was such a glorious day, I should sit my Yangjae stream. So I did. And it was good.

After eating my sandwich, I plugged in my iPod and just chilled. I watched people walking along the steam, surveyed the fall colours in the cherry and ginkgo trees and even saw little butterflies fluttering among the flowers that were near me.

But it wasn't enough. The sun was so warm and the breeze was so pleasant that I soon just took off my hat, closed my eyes and focused on that. Soon, the only things I was aware of was the sun shining on my face, the breeze weaving through the sun beams and my hair, the beating of my heart, and my music. Everything else was gone: work, men, debt, everything. When I opened my eyes, I felt so relaxed. And for the rest of my lunch, I was unshakable. Nothing could touch me. It felt so good.

This is what my poem from a few posts ago is about. About having these amazing moments, but not being able to share them, and even worse, being thought of as strange when I try to describe it to others.

Then, later in the day, during my last class, I was pondering the amusing nature of the word "couch" while the kids were thinking of a sentence to make with it. I was saying it out loud repeatedly, both for my own amusement, and to make it stick in the kids' minds. One of the kids started giggling at me. I asked why. He said I was funny because I kept saying "couch", why did I do that? I told his I just liked the word. He thought for a moment then replied "You mean like 'cellar door?'" I was floored! I taught them "cellar door" three weeks previous, telling them that it was regarded by many to be the most beautiful word in the English language. And he remembered!!!

If that weren't good enough, at the end of the class, as the kinds were leaving, one of the girls lagged behind and watched as I put my hat and scarf on. Then she said matter-of-factly "Teacher? I think you look really cool." Flattered, I said thanks, then she added. "Yeah, it's cool. A little bit of boy style." (I guess it was the hat) But either way. That made me feel good.

But for all of this neat stuff, I've had a shadow cast over my thoughts of late. Last week, I was informed that I "didn't have any friends because I waste my time with people who don't deserve my friendship". And that really shocked me. I have always lived with the notion that my friendship is there for the taking; if you want it, you can have it. But I never thought of withholding it. It goes against everything I believe in. I probably won't change, but I've been thinking about that a lot. If I was more selective with who I "bestowed" by friendship upon, would I have more friends, or less? Does having less friends make people want to get closer to you? I dunno. It's all very confusing.

Another strange even from my day was when I was walking from my kitchen. I turned around briefly and caught my reflection in the mirror by the door. For just a split second, I saw someone I didn't recognise, a grown woman. But then she was gone. I still can't think of myself as grown up. I mean, I may be living by myself, 10 000km from home, working a full-time job, but I'm nowhere near being grown up. I still play dress up, and sing-along. I get shy and giddy around boys I like. I wear clothes that are comfortable, not that look good. I trust people. I assume that everyone is my friend, and forgive them immediately if they haven't acted like it. I get overly (though sincerely) excited and enthusiastic about everything. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I make faces. I watch my favourite movies and read my favourite books a million times over. I'm naive, undisciplined and completely transparent.

I wonder if there is a grown-up Leah lurking under the surface somewhere, of if I'm doomed to me a giddy little girl trapped in a woman's body for the rest of my life. The trouble is that I'm aware of it. I know it's not attractive to men, and I watch myself in the third person sometimes and wonder just what the hell I'm doing. I see what I'm doing wrong, but am powerless to stop it.

But, I guess if I can't stop it, there's no use worrying about the whole ordeal. I'll just hope that I come across enough people in my life that don't mind my silliness.

Wow, that was a lot of pondering for one post. Sorry, everyone :P

I had a very lonesome day today. I've been dreaming a lot lately, usually about men. Not sexual dreams (although I wouldn't say no to one or two, lol), but dreams where a man is there with me. In a way, I guess my subconscious is trying to make up for what I lack in waking life, but at the same time, it make me miss the real warmth of another person's hand in mine, or even a good, solid male hug. For all that I'm so cerebral, I still have my moments where I truly long for human contact and comfort.

Sometimes I wonder if I don't have an invisible sign that says "you can look, but don't touch". Or maybe, "Come say hi!...But don't get too close". Maybe I'm just give off that Amazon warrior woman vibe: "I'm your equal, but don't dare make me your lover"

But whatever it is, I've been feeling lately like I'm a sort of disposable friend. The opposite of a fair weather friend. I'm there when you need me, but easily forgotten when the trouble has past.

All of these sad, lonesome thoughts have been swirling through my head.

And yet...On the way home from tutoring, I had my iPod plugged in, an upbeat song playing through the earphones, and I was walking with a bounce in my step and peace in my heart. Then like the cherry on a sundae, The path I was walking revealed a huge stretch of dried leaves all piled on the side of the path. Without even a moments hesitation, I leapt into the leaves and walked on, kicking up leaves like a 5 year old. I was aware of the big goofy grin on my face, but there was nobody around and I didn't care! For one shining moment, all the loneliness was gone.

And it was good.

I recently did a book about Van Gogh with my kids. One of the worksheets was to draw "Starry Night" and write about how it makes you feel. Now, I love to draw, so I decided that while the kids worked on their own drawings, I would make my own. So I did. I opened the book and sketched out "Starry Night", adding colour later.

I've always felt kinda sick this particular Van Gogh piece. It's overshown. Rather like Da Vinci's "La Gioconda", Michaelangelo's "The Creation of Adam" fresco, and Munch's "The Scream". I just got tired of seeing it everywhere.

However, upon the closer scrutiny required to recreate a painting, I realised that the painting is really quite beautiful. I never really looked at the little village that sits beyond the dark pillar of vegetation. I never acknowledged the tiny lit windows or striped roofs. I never saw what appears to be a river or a ploughed field in the foreground. Nor did I really notice that the movements of the sky and how it swirls around the stars or the dynamic motion of the gust of wind in the centre of the sky.

I don't pretend to be a critic of this level of timeless art, or even to know any damn thing about art in general. But I know that by taking a close look at this painting, I noticed little things that I didn't before. And it surprised me how much it affected me.

My lesson of the day: I need to learn to examine people more closely. Who knows what beautiful little pieces I'm missing by not allowing myself to get close to anyone, as I'm wont to do.

On a slightly related note, I did Shakespeare with the same class the next day...Keep in mind that they're about 8 years old...

I was trying to explain rhythm in poetry (the book were were studying was in verse), so I taught them iambic pentameter. I figured it has a simple, heartbeat rhythm, why wouldn't they understand it? Here's the thing: they DID! 8 year olds chanting "My MIStress' EYES are NOthing LIKE the SUN" and "How DO I LOVE thee, LET me COUNT the WAYS." It was beautiful. Not only were the kids getting it, but I felt so passionate about teaching it. Maybe I should go back to school and get an degree in English so I can teach Shakespeare all the time! :)