7/5/10- Pre Trip Anxiety

To begin with I must confess that I was not at all optimistic about being accepted to teach English in South Korea this summer, in fact, I was a bit disappointed. This whole predicament that my mind played on me left me feeling ungrateful, selfish and honestly quite petulant. It is not every day that you get an email inviting you on a free trip to Asia, so juxtaposed with my traveling spirit, this ripped a wide hole in my stomach and left a searing pain on my conscience. Call me antiquated, but when blessings are bestowed upon you, rather, when blessings are handed to you freely, and you notice your less then legitimate attitude, one begins to feel shabby and utterly deflated.. Obligatorily, my heart had honed in on the idea that South Korea was an opportunity not worth passing up, and the fact that I even pondered on not taking the opportunity was utter balderdash.

Oftentimes when faced with a guilty conscience, all that one needs is a bit of perspective. My bag is packed, my ticket purchased, there truly is nothing else to it. On Saturday I will depart from Minneapolis and fly across the globe to another culture. A world I have never before seen will be revealed to me the moment I step through the terminal doors. As far as I am concerned, my journey has begun. I have a voracious appetite for learning, and this trip will be nothing short of spectacular. Seoul, South Korea, here I come, whether my conscience is aptly prepared or not. This feeling is quite indescribable, a diaphanous element, whose essence is perplexing and rather exasperating. Finding words to describe pre-trip anxiety is often like trying to find the words to pin point the feeling that love brings. We seem to yield or concave to the convexity that love begets, and honing in on an adequate representation in which to gauge a feeling is quite a siege in itself. Describing my nerves would be nearly impossible and wholly improbable.

As I sit writing away this blog, a posthaste scrabbling, the lush canopies of my Wisconsin home seem to wave goodbye in the languorous summer air. My bag is packed, stuffed with eager fingertips, awaiting the Asian sun to swallow their fabric in light. The next time you'll hear from this writer will be upon my arrival in a new culture, climate and continent.

Cheers, your humble writer David