Kyoto, Japan: Kinkaku-ji (Temple of the Golden Pavilion)

When you think of Japan lots of things come to mind.  Anime, sushi and sake, or maybe even this stuff.....but what I ended up loving when I left Japan sounds like a cheesy Martha Stewart special: what I appreciated was the delicate planning the Japanese put into a garden.  The Zen gardens were lovely to explore in their simplicity, but once a garden is truly cultivated, there's a balance in the leaves, and the way the water shapes itself around the trees that makes the most simple places paradise.  Then, add a temple painted bright gold, and you have magic. 

Kinkaki-ji was of the few places I paid to get in, and I almost didn't go at all, but two girls from Singapore found me on the verge of a nervous breakdown (because my PIN number wasn't working and I was completely out of money).  What would have taken days in horrible English instead took (only) three hours: they helped me in the Japanese they knew, and we finally got an ATM to work internationally.  They didn't have to help me, but you learn when travelling that people need to help each other when they can.  They could have easily wished me luck (or thought me crazy) and went on their way, but instead their generosity helped me to salvage a day in Kyoto.  After we (or maybe just me) calmed down over a bowl of noodles, we decided to make our way towards the temple together.

On the bus, we met a man who happened to live across from the temple.  Thankfully, feeling safer with my new companions, we didn't think it was that strange to accept an invitation to his home.  He paid for the bus fare, and lead us to his beautiful villa.  He gave us scarves with his own designs, gave us drinks, and (once he found out I was from New York City), talked about the New York Yankees pretty much non-stop.  We took some pictures, talked for a little while, then we went on our way happy to have made a new friend.  Because of a miscommunication he thought I still lived in NYC, and when he wanted an address from me in order to write a letter, I couldn't bear to break his heart.  So, I gave him a friend's address.  Two weeks later she received this:

The temple was worth every penny, and we got there as the sun was about to set, leaving a golden color on the leaves and water as it rippled away from the temple.  I realized I had met three wonderful people that day because of a stressful money crisis.  It was worth it to be able to have the adventure I did, even if I didn't know it at the time. Travelling is a wild animal in itself: strange, unpredictable, and hard to communicate with.  Sometimes you simply have to wait until its calmed down enough on its own, and sometimes there are people there to help you sooth it back under control.

New York, New York

Like almost everyone else I know, I have a love/hate relationship with this wonderfully manic city.  It's a city of inherent contradictions itself--it's one of the oldest cities with the newest trends, it's filled with all languages, religions, and ethnicities and yet holds within it a generally liberal and open-minded group of human beings.  It's got an unparallelled mass transit system, and yet takes me an hour to ride one train from Astoria-Ditmars to Prince Street stuffed in a crowded space with a bunch of strangers.  You can walk by a homeless person trying to get a dollar, and brush by a woman's purse that costs eleven hundred. 

Five years, seven jobs, three colleges, and six apartments later...it's time. It's time to see what else is going on in the world.  Reading travel magazines constantly and having close friends living and traveling abroad, I literally can't sleep I'm so excited some times.  Watching my money dwindle away on silly things like subway rides to and from the same old places, coffee, clothes and alcohol I realize how much more I can do.  I just have to go and do it....which is the hard part.  Without realizing it you turn around and life happens: between show tickets and a dentist appointment I'm still here.  All I've wanted to do was go...how am I still here? I just have to go. I can't wait. What if I turn around and it's September? What if it's three years later? It's time to move to Seoul, South Korea.  Say yes to a contract.  I start April 25th.

The Graduate's Dilemma

Throughout college, I waited impatiently for the end of college. 

Last June, I saw all my friends graduate and have that moment of panic: that "what do I do now?" moment.  I decided that couldn't possibly happen to me.  I've been working outside of school; my life is more outside of school than in it.  I'll be fine.  Then I graduated this December, and all that was shattered.  I was out in the world, free to do whatever I wanted: meanwhile I've stayed at my old job, continued serving tables, and continued living in New York City.  It seems that there are so many things I want to do, so many opportunities, that I've actually done nothing.  It feels like I'm trying to move to the left, right, front and back all at the same time...which leaves me right where I am. 
Even this blog--even this post--is going in so many directions and I can't even pretend to control it. All I know, as of very recently, is that I am moving to South Korea to become a teacher.  The paperwork is in progress. 


I guess, like characters in a play, there are the people in my life that represent all of these things:
First of all there are my parents.  Neither of them have ever left the country, and don't plan on doing so.  When I was twelve, the whole family went to Niagra Falls, and we stayed on the U.S. side the entire time. My parents are in many ways creatures of habit.  For ten years, we went to the same place for vacation: Orlando. All seven family members drove the eighteen hours there, went to the same amusement parks, on the same rides, went to the same resort, and drove the eighteen hours back.  While they are taking the fact that I want to move to what is technically a war zone fairly well, my mother is also doing very well at assuring me that there is plenty to do here in America on a regular basis.



Then there are the two most inspirational people in my life: my boss and my co-worker at NYPR.  My boss is sort of my unofficial mentor.  She has taught me so much about myself inadvertently--we are kind of the same person, twenty years apart.  Over wine last week, I told her about my plans, and she was genuinely excited for me.  After she graduated, she moved abroad for a year, and she said it became her first empowering moment.  One of my biggest concerns in life is not fitting in all I want to do, but knowing this woman has made me realize that there is an incredibly long amount of time to everything and anything.  From Executive Producer, to college professor, to professional dancer, to living in South America, to moving to Ethiopia for two years, to becoming a mother--life can be all you want from it, and having her is a constant reminder to not be afraid to commit to things.  My co-worker is my age, and her resolution last year was to follow through and do what she said she was going to do.  It sounds simple, but in that time she's said some interesting things out loud: from "I'm moving to Cambodia for three months" to "I'm going to compete in a triathlon".  And so far, she's done them all.  Without her, I don't know if I would have the courage to do what I say out loud.  So, one opens my mind to all the opportunities that will come across in my life, and the other gives me the courage to grab hold of them and do so.  Having them as constant reminders of this has been truly moving and I'm so thankful to know both.


Then there is this guy I just met. This may sound strange, but it's weird that he's already got me thinking so much--I've known him for maybe a week.  Yet, he is completely open to everything in life in a way I had sort of have forgotten how to do.  I met him in my pajamas for goodness sakes, hungover in a big way, and still he somehow listened to our conversation with interest and still asked me out for some reason.  He keeps his heart and mind open in a way I can't help but admire.  When we first spoke, he mentioned "Sleep No More".  When my friend mentioned it to me an hour later I decided I had to go see it.  That, however, was committing to a Wednesday night show. I mentioned I was moving to Seoul, and his friend two days later told him he got a job there...so this guy decided he should move to South Korea too. Of course, who knows what will actually happen when life gets in the way.  The point is to appreciate everything that comes into your life, and accept that it is happening for a reason.



Then, as the oldest of five children, there are my siblings.  I'm honestly not sure how they feel.  I guess, with my being the odd one in the family, they aren't really surprised...they expect this kind of stuff from me.  My brother actually said, in an honest, straight-forward way that is foreign to my family's sarcastic tendencies, that he would miss me.  My youngest sister, Sammy Jo, misses me even from New Jersey now.  One of my favorite things in the world is coming home to her running to the door for a huge hug, then seeing her a moment later prancing around the house in my shoes.  The older sister is just turning twenty-one, and my other brother will be graduating high school...it would feel strange, missing all these milestones.  No one in my family has ever left for anywhere.  So far, the oldest three have all gone to college in the tri-state area.  Leaving would be heart-breaking...but I guess it's better to have it hurt because you love something so much.  In the end, I have to keep reminding myself that part of being the oldest is showing the younger ones what they are capable of.  I can't take full credit, but being the first to move out, to get a job, to follow my crazy career path, etc....I hope it helped make it a little less scary for my brothers and sisters than it was for me.


Making this list of people in my life, I've realized there is no one--not even my parents--that are telling me not to go.  Something about it is just so freeing, and so fleeting, everyone has either felt that rush and wants it for me or regrets ever having it (except, I think, my parents).  Who knows what will happen in the future, what might make me stay here or in another city, or if I'll ever have the opportunity to just pick up and leave again.


This, as I expected, has been a crazy first post.  I hope no one finds this blog until it actually has a point.