- Anthony Bourdain
(photo by Mallory Dowd)
In a little over a month from now my fiancé and I will be on a plane heading to South Korea for the second time in as many years. It’s not so much another move in what’s been a very long line of moves, but a necessity. As Mr. Bourdain rightly points out, things are simply different now and there’s no turning back.
When talking with people about the decision to move to Korea both in 2013 and this year, I’ve often been asked “why?” Which is a perfectly natural question to ask someone moving across the world, but it chips at me in a way. I’m in that age bracket where folks are making the big ol’ life choices: getting married, buying a house, maybe having a baby, or perhaps all of the above. All of these things are amazing adventures in their own right and I tip my cap to the fine folks I know doing these things. But let’s consider for a second someone announcing that they’re getting married and the reply being “why?” Or “we’re having a baby!” being met with “why?” That would never happen because that’s just what people do. They get married, buy a house, or have a baby.
And it’s fantastic.
I’m immensely happy for the plethora of friends and family I have that have done or are doing these things. It’s given me great joy to be a part of so many fantastic unions, to see the minds of loved ones transform four walls into their own home, and I honestly had no idea how many folks could duke it out for the title of most adorable baby. Again, it’s all pretty damn great.
But it ain’t for me.
Not right now. There’s too much to do and far too many things to see and amazing people to meet. There is quite literally an entire world waiting for us to explore it and take in as much as we can, and I can’t say no to it. Actually, I would argue the decision to travel and move abroad falls in line quite closely with the major life decisions that I’m expected to make right now. It’s a leap of faith based on trust, looking toward the future, and building something… just not in the traditional sense. I’m looking at the future and determining what kind of person I want to be when I get there and how much traveling the world can help shape that.
But back to the question, why move to Korea? Well… why the hell not? Because there’s life and then there’s living life, and there’s an ocean between the two. I’m quite certain I’ll only get one go at living, so I’ll choose the latter. I’m not interested in allowing the hours and days of my life to simply wash over me and just happen when I can take a hold of them and do what truly excites me. As Robin Esrock said in his fantastic Ted Talk, “those of us that travel for a long time are either running away from something, or looking for something.” And like him, I’m looking for something. Looking for new ways of thinking, different ways to relate to people, new food, new experiences, new places, and whatever else comes up.
For any of that exploration to be possible, I had to take the advice of a close friend a few years back and make a resolution to truly embrace uncertainty. Stop fearing the unknown and welcome it in to see what it has to say. As something of a control freak, I can assure you, this has not been an easy task. However, it has been one of the most rewarding decisions of my life. Living abroad pushes this ideal to the forefront on a nearly daily basis and it’s utterly amazing. Coming up against a radically different way of communicating and thinking and embracing them instead of rejecting them has forced me to consider how and why I think, feel, and react to things the way I do.
For example, I “prayed” for the first time in my life while visiting a temple in Thailand. Though it may have made more sense to do so while in an SUV on a rainy day slipping and sliding down a slick, muddy, and terrifyingly narrow track with no guardrail on the side of a mountain, I’m an unyielding atheist, so I didn’t see the point. The rains came and went on that trip in the way they can only do in the jungle, but never more so than while we were visiting a temple in Chiang Mai. Almost instantly after walking through the door sheets of rain came pounding down and we were stuck inside. There was just one other man in the temple, a local fellow who struck up conversation with us. We spoke briefly about his son, the changes Chiang Mai had gone through, and what his life was like as a traffic cop on some of the most utterly insane streets I’ve ever seen. As the rains died down and we were about to leave, he asked us to join him in a prayer. This is something a previous version of myself would’ve absolutely refused. However, I liked the guy and was curious what a traditional Buddhist prayer would look like, so I embraced the moment and followed his lead through a prayer. While the moment undoubtedly had different meanings for each of us, it was a great feeling to connect in some way to someone from such a vastly different background.
When not on vacation and strictly living in a new society, being an expat can be frustrating from time to time. Very frustrating. But anything that’s worthwhile is frustrating. None of the amazing homes, fantastic unions, or adorable babies I mentioned earlier are free of their frustrations. Yet I can tell you with no hesitation that every person I know in those situations wouldn’t have it any other way. Frustrations are part of the risk we sign up for when making big life choices, and why not? What’s the point of living a life with no risks or regrets? Where’s the fun in playing it safe?
By definition there really isn’t anything wrong with playing it safe… but by that same token there really isn’t much right about it either. It feels too complacent. I don’t want to get to the end of my days and wish I had traveled more, or spent more time outdoors, or learned another language, or got more tattoos. More simply, I’d much rather regret something I did than something I didn’t do. Again, the difference between life and living life. Taking risks and occasionally taking a blind leap feels a hell of a lot more like living than walking down the path of least resistance.
And moving to Korea is a risk for me. For many reasons, but not least of which is that whole career business that I’ll be leaving behind. The career path we’re all told is so important and that we need to ramp up to from about age 10.
Let me be blunt: I do not give a fuck about a career.
This should in no way be confused for me not respecting careers, because I do. I come from a family of self-taught and self-employed entrepreneurs and have an immense amount of pride because of that. But for my situation, tying myself to a career means making decisions for said career and not for living life on my terms. That’s not a position I’m willing to put myself in. But because I grew up in a society constantly telling me to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, I’m led to believe that the singular path is the only one. Get a job, work your way up, make more money, retire, and then do whatever the hell you want. For some the routine and comfort that comes from a steady job and a roof over their head is just fine, thank you very much. And there’s a part of me that really and truly understands that. There’s a lot to be proud of in building something for yourself in that manner. More simply, I am in no way attempting to say it’s wrong for people to prioritize a career.
However, it’s just that: a priority. And for me a career isn’t a priority because it doesn’t equal success. Success is measured in innumerable ways, and a career just ain’t at the top for me. I don’t really have one thing to point a finger to and say “that there will mean I’m successful,” but I also don’t feel the need to. Maybe success is being more compassionate towards others, or being at peace with yourself, or maybe it’s traveling to distant lands and slaying dragons who hoard all the village’s gold. I’m not entirely sure what success looks like for me, but I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not going to wait until I retire to do whatever the hell I want.
This isn’t always easy though. Avoiding the career path and traveling requires a dedication to living in the moment… which… I’m still very much learning. I usually prefer to plan a few steps in advance. I personally blame Tetris for this, but it’s given me an amazing ability to pack a bag and do far more dishes than one dish rack should contain, so I’m mainly fine with the trade off. However, avoiding constantly thinking of next year, or the next step can allow me to more fully enjoy what I’m experiencing on a day-to-day basis, which again goes back to the difference between life and living life.
Attempting to live more fully in the moment is why I’m not really concerned with what I’ll do “when I get back.” I don’t know. And that’s fine. M’lady and I may teach in Korea for a year, maybe five, and then move on to another country to teach more. We may wind up in the UK to study abroad. We may wind up on a farm in New Zealand. I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to letting myself figure it out as I go instead of fretting over what I don’t have planned.
So, again, why move to Korea?
Because my fiancé and I have made travel a priority. More than a career, a house, or a baby, traveling this world with the one we love is what we want the most. So we’ve gone all in on it. Because that’s the only way for us to truly travel the way we want to. Because, as Mr. Bourdain said, “ there’s no putting the pieces back together.”
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