Inner Dialogues

“Oogway: There are no accidents.

Shifu: [sighs] Yes, I know. You've already said that twice.

Oogway: That was no accident either.

Shifu: Thrice.”

― Kung Fu Panda

I cried in church today. 

I woke up to Sunday like I regularly do, put on my makeup like I regularly do, walked into church five minutes before it starts like I regularly do, and sat in my seat like I usually do, and cried. 

It wasn't a loud cry, that was saved for the video call with my parents when I got home. It was the gentle welling where only a tear or two escapes, but knowing it's only one "are you ok, dearie?" away from exploding into a miniature representation of Old Faithful. 

The week was a bit of an emotional one. Perhaps it was a delayed onset of culture shock, or maybe my erratic sleep schedule had started to catch up with me, but I was closer to my emotions than I have been in a while. A large part of it has been I have slowly felt myself slipping in key behaviors that generally keep me afloat and replacing them with substitutes, which while easier to do, have none of the lasting benefits that those key behaviors have. 

The guilt and frustration have been building as demons that I've thought I defeated have started to again beat a path to my door. Guilt and frustration are incredibly debilitating, as they often accompany thoughts like "I can't..." and "I don't deserve...". Talk to a runner, an athlete, anyone trying to achieve goals, and they will be first to tell you that their highest achievements were rarely attained with a constant litany of "you can't do it" running through their minds. 

Knowing this though starts it's own tailspin:

"Stop telling yourself you can't! You know that's just self-defeating."

"How long are we going to have to struggle with this?!"

"Can't you just get your act together?"

...

Well, no. Not with that tone of voice.

One of my favorite webtoon novelists often characterizes emotions as faceless bodies, each one drawn to reflect the trait they represent. Anger is red, buff and fiery, all flexing muscles and hands balled into fists. Fear, small with muted colors, body frail and curling into itself - little waves doodled around it to demonstrate its trembling. 

Fear is a long time friend of mine - that muted, cringing frame a mental state that I'm all too familiar with. It's probably my least favorite emotion, and I have lived much of my life to avoid it. Resulting in a lot of opposition avoidant behavior, which in turn has made for some really interesting life decisions. 

But clearly, that isn't always the case. After all I'm in Korea, and I was so rattled when I arrived at the airport in Incheon I almost passed out leaving the plane. But I didn't turn around and go back. Meaning somewhere I learned to look fear in the eye and get past it. Or just dash around with my eyes on a polished shield to keep track of it, lest making eye contact would turn me to stone. 

If all Medusas looked like moving out of the country, then I'd feel validated; however, my daily Medusas aren't anywhere near that impressive. Today's struggle: Studying Korean. 

LET ME TELL YOU. It is incredibly frustrating to have an automatic fear response when thinking about doing something that is a necessary step to functioning like a normal human being. And it's not like I don't enjoy it, I do. Languages are amazing to me, because I love talking. I love communicating. I love people. The math is simple. More languages = more talking = more communicating = more people.

One day I was thinking about studying and the clutter of "need to" and "scared to" thoughts were running through my mind. Finally deciding I was FINISHED with this response I put down the papers I was grading and I finally called in Me and Myself for a consult. 

Eyes steely, I gave us all pointed looks. There was no need to explain, we all knew why we were there.

 "What on earth are we so afraid of?" I asked. 

Myself paused, because this was a question we generally avoid, while Me just waited, eyes darting around nervously.

I continued, "If we study, we'll definitely learn Korean. It's something we're good at, so it's not like it's incredibly difficult. This would really take the pressure off us in social situations, and maybe, just maybe, we could get a boyfriend. Our hands get really cold during the winter."

Me winced in agreement, hands rubbing together. 

Myself nods, looking thoughtful. Everyone seemed to be on the same page so far, so I prompted again. 

"So, why the terror response, guys?"

Me and Myself blinked, looking at each other, than I felt their gazes pierce into me and their response came in unison.

"Because we could succeed." 

I blinked, slightly shocked by their matter of fact tones. They waited, and I waited, not sure I'd heard them correctly. But their expressions told me that they were dead serious. 

It was a stupid response. And it was shallow. But as I ended the three-way conversation with my psyche I realized there was some truth to it. It would reinforce what I already didn't want to admit - studying hard gets results. Which would mean that I could have done better in college. Which would mean that other areas where I had failed I could have excelled, and I just didn't do what it took to get there. 

Self-sabotage - avoiding growth to validate my own past deficiencies. 

So what next? Forgive the past, embrace the future? Easier said than done. But doable. It mostly just requires action, realistic expectations, and acceptance of the fact that the past is what it is. The only way to change the past is by living differently in the present. It's recognizing that even if the fear is there, it isn't one that I need to listen to. Now whether or not my assessment is right I won't obsess over. Undergrad psych classes just tell you about how people break, not how to fix them. Self-diagnosing is highly discouraged. So I did what I do when I need to change and I'm not strong enough to do it by myself. I prayed for help.

I've had too many coincidences in my life to believe in them. Which brings us back to my opening statement: I cried in church today. 

My church congregation here has been amazing. One family took me on a day trip yesterday to Costco and toured me around the area. Another has had me over for dinner. Many go out of their way to use their very limited English to speak to me and make me feel welcome. So no worries, I wasn't crying because the members were giving me the cold shoulder.

Today a new pastor was called to our congregation. This in itself isn't uncommon. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has unpaid clergy, with pastors serving on average of about 5 years before someone else is called. Having grown up in the church, this a system that I'm pretty familiar with, especially considering most of that time I was the preacher's daughter. So today, even though I didn't understand the words, I recognized the process. There's always a little thrill of excitement when a new pastor is called, but today this thrill was washed away with an incredibly powerful wave of gratitude as my friend Brother Bae addressed the congregation for the first time as pastor. 

In the past I have been incredibly blessed with the religious leaders who've been in my life. Moving here I didn't doubt the leadership would be any less. But I was under no disillusions that I would be able to effectively communicate with them. So today I cried. Because I got something I'd have never asked for, but desperately needed. Brother Bae was the first to really come and talk to me when I started coming to church here in Korea. Frequently checking in with me to make sure I was doing alright, his fluent English a life raft during my first months in church. 

What does this have to do with studying Korean? Maybe nothing. But it has everything to do with being reminded that there is a God who is mindful of me. That if he will address this unspoken need, how much more will he help me with the struggles I do bring to his feet? 

To say I feel seen is an understatement. Was the leadership changed just for me? Of course not. There are too many people with too many needs. Is it a mistake that the timeline came together with when I came? Again, I've experienced too many coincidences in life to believe in them. Nothing on earth can convince me that there isn't a greater force working for the good of mankind. But it's all too easy to forget, to get distracted. But today I was reminded that God knows me, that changes occur when deity gives strength to mortality, and this mortality just needs to get out of the way. 

-Shayla