Parting ways or saying goodbye is a heart-wrenching and emotionally quite painful experience.
I always reassure those around me that I am ready to let them go, never clinging or begging them to stay. Although I am never truly ready, and probably never will be, I say this to offer them a small peace. It’s okay to leave if that’s their path. Who am I to impose such demands? I am often driven by desire, yearning for things that frequently elude me, particularly the warmth of people. The challenge of letting go of people, memories, and time may be my greatest struggle in life, despite my usual words to those around me: “Leave when you need to leave. I am always here.” True friendship, love, and appreciation are not about holding on tightly, but about granting the freedom to depart whenever desired. Even when we are apart, we remember the warmth. Even if it’s my own misunderstanding or one-sided, I still feel surrounded by that warmth from the person or the people, like the comforting warmth of the sun on a winter day—I love inhaling the cold air with my absolutely red nose while being enveloped by the winter day light’s warmth.
Although I describe myself as a solitary person, my mind remains deeply engaged by interactions with others. I haven’t attended a music festival in years because I was “wondering,” and even in school, I was not necessarily the one to seek out social engagement. However, my intention to be alone still stems from a yearning for the warmth of others. The space left by others, though painful, has also been a source of fascination of my mind and emotional fulfillment.
Creating music, building memories, and sharing meaningful moments are central to my pursuit of inner peace amidst life’s constant ebb and flow. One hour I say, “Is that it?” Another hour I accept things as they are. Yet another hour, my emotions stir me up, and the next I sit in complete silence amidst confusion.
Upon returning to Korea, I slept through the entire flight, craving a single night of uninterrupted rest. Despite the turbulence, the crowd, and the cramped quarters, I slept deeply as if nothing else mattered. I awoke briefly to drink water before falling back to sleep, and when I next opened my eyes, we were preparing for landing. The profundity of that sleep, shrouded in darkness, provided a rare sense of peace which I haven’t had in a while. I am glad to let myself absorb the complete darkness of memory and emotion and forcefully shut myself off from the noise of minds and circumstances. Replaying the memories and turning them off, replaying and turn them off again and again.
Was this experience merely a dream? The memory lingers vividly, not just in beautiful images but in the air and sounds of the moment. I remain overwhelmed by emotions and thoughts, perhaps hoping to silence them, even if just temporarily. When people say it’s not a big deal, I find it precious. When people say I am overly sensitive to minor changes in my life, those changes matter to me. I connect the dots, creating significant patterns and spaces, and I am overwhelmed in awe.
Before I start my rehearsal later today, I may look for a piece of music that allows me to explore my current emotions, something that resonates deeply with me. I know for sure it will be very far from Hindemith. What do my ears hear?
Some random contemplation: is my life too disconnected from what is deemed “normal”? When did this divergence begin, and what is its nature? I am left questioning this gap and seeking understanding. I hope I am not too alien to anyone or anything.
musicthattouchesyoursoul 