The Power of Pen on Paper

This year, I have probably read more words than I have in any previous year. Most of these have been through a screen – digital comics, social media, online news, and all too rarely, my own words for this blog. And yet, the words that I found had the most consistent emotional impact on me were the brief messages scrawled lovingly on cards and notes. There’s just something special about some surprise sentences from a dear friend that short-circuits my emotional defenses and lets them reach right into my heart.

It’s always nice to find an unexpected message from someone you care about, wherever it may present itself. Even a short ‘Hey, how are you?’ on a messaging service after a long period of life-induced silence can lead to a welcome catch-up and sharing of stories.

And yet, I still find myself at a greater emotional distance with digital messages than I do from a postcard sent on a whim, or even a birthday card. I can’t pinpoint one clear reason why I find myself disarmed by written messages, treasuring them more than all but the most heartfelt interactions on social media.

It’s partly because they are so one-sided – with digital communication, there is most often a tacit expectation of a response, and most of the time a rapid one. Written notes and cards have no such expectation. You take the time to write them, knowing that their recipient might not reply. You write them just to make them happy, and that purity of purpose fascinates me.

After reading so many words through screens, there is also something special about holding a piece of paper and seeing them pressed directly into the surface. Whether the person’s handwriting is godawful like mine (be thankful that this blog is not written by hand, because there would only be a handful of you able to read the chicken scratch that comes when I am writing a creative piece in a fit of inspiration), carefully pristine, or somewhere in between, I can so vividly picture the character behind each piece. This is much harder when their words are uniformly dulled by typeface.

Finally, handwritten communication is just simply rarer. We all gorge on swathes of digital verbiage, and receiving something written for you only happens a few times per year. This has lead us Kris and I to make happiness totems of the few that we have, tactically placing them on surfaces where we can catch a glimpse of them when we least expect it, hearken back to the moment we first read them, and smile at the memory.

All of this is not to lessen the importance of keeping in touch digitally. It is certainly an easier and more instant form of communication, and is much more convenient for keeping up with everyone in your life. However, while handwritten letters and cards may not be a universally useful tool, they are impactful and meaningful expressions of your feelings for those that you deem worthy of them, and Kris and I both treasure each one that we have been lucky enough to receive.

2018: The Year of Stagnation

After the whirlwind year that was 2017, I entered 2018 refreshed and with a glint of confidence in my eye. I set my energy on breaking out of the teaching cycle and getting my foot in the door of a new industry. This hopefulness slowly curdled into disappointment and self-loathing. I spent months languishing in creative and professional purgatory, and simply watched the days swirl past me as I waited for some golden opportunity that never came. Eventually, I had to return to teaching in order to sustain the household that Kris and I continued to build. It was the routine of working again, combined with finding wonder in almost every aspect of life, that helped to reignite some semblance of inspiration within me, and I enter 2019 with much of the vigor that I started the year with, even if it is tinted with more realism.

A clean break

I believed that 2018 would be the year that I managed to stop teaching and find a career in gaming. I elected not to search for a new teaching job in March, and dedicated my time to software testing. I spent three months learning all I could in the lead-up to the eventual exam. I aced the exam, and started what I thought would be a brief job search. There were so many gaming companies, and I would be a perfect fit at any of them, I thought. It turns out that this assertion could hardly have been further from reality. As a foreigner with zero functional Korean or experience in the field, I was barely a more appealing hire than a well-dressed Shiba Inu with halitosis. At least the Shiba could potentially be a company mascot, even if it did smell a bit.

The fog

Days of searching turned into weeks. I rarely received more than a polite stock rejection to any position I applied for, if I was graced with any response at all. I applied to more postings than I could remember, and I could count the number of returned contact on my fingers. Possibly even on one hand. My spirit wasn’t broken. It was led into a cell, chained to the wall, and given a daily beating every time I opened up the job boards. As the weeks turned into months, it had curled into a ball, simply too bruised to care anymore. Throughout this time, Kris remained her remarkable, supportive self. She encouraged me, and assured me that I would find a job if I just kept trying. So I did. It never came. I was emotionally and creatively void. That showed in how I was too ashamed of my situation to post on this blog for months. I was failing in achieving my dream, and I didn’t want anyone else to know.

Return to the classroom

I couldn’t evade reality forever. Our bills continued to come in, and my lack of contribution had drained almost all of our previous windfall in a leaking sieve of selfish, blind ambition. On the day in October at which I was at my lowest following one final disappointing dead end, a board gaming friend posted that his school would need someone to replace him from the beginning of November, as he was returning home on short notice. The position seemed about as good of a deal as I could have hoped for at the time. The hours were shorter than the average job, which would leave me time to pursue other professional interests. There was a good deal of vacation, to help me match my vacation time with Kris. Most importantly, the school seemed supportive of both the students’ learning and the teachers themselves. I interviewed, and for the first time in my soul-bruising searching period, I was offered the job. It was teaching, but after months of nothing, I was excited to teach again, and the income would help me continue to focus on the next step without all of the guilt surrounding not being able to contribute to our household financially.

Bonfire Lit

With each passing day of employment, I clawed back the self-worth that had been left in tatters by the failure of the rest of the year. As I began to think of myself in a light other than a grey, faded hue, I realized an unintended casualty of my emotional self-mutilation – I had lost my sense of wonder. No matter what I experienced, I could find little to no magic or marvel in it. Before 2018, I could find a sprinkle of fairy dust in the most mundane of experiences, but my eyes had been glazed over by disappointment. Thankfully, as I regained positive opinions of myself, I began to see the wonder in the world again. I was also fortunate enough to be presented with innately wondrous experiences in all spheres of my life, from the life-affirming album ‘A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships’ by The 1975, playing Dark Souls for the first time, reading novels again after many months, spending more time with friends that look at the world from different angles to me and show me where they find happiness therein, and exploring more of Seoul and seeing the little wrinkles of joy that I had previously ignored. I played on arguably the most fun Ultimate teams I’ve ever played on, and they filled me with happiness even in the darkest of times. It is these renewed connections to the fantastical that I take with me into the year ahead.

Reflecting on a year where you spent the majority of it in isolated, unvoiced disillusionment is not an easy thing. I disappointed myself a great deal this year. I made more mistakes than I ever want to make in a year going forward. I hated myself more than I ever want to hate myself again. I am lucky that I could afford to have as awful a year as I did. Without my amazing wife supporting me in almost every way, I would not have been able to come out of this year remotely near being optimistic and able to see joy in the world, and for that I will be eternally grateful. My wonderful friends also managed to pull me out of my own negative world more often than I thought possible. 2019 will be a better year. I am filled with determination. Happy new year, everyone! I hope that your 2018s were better than mine, and that you never lose your ability to see the little miracles all around you.

All images in this piece by @mmingran.

Star Wars: Episode VII

Just go see it. Right now. Stop reading this post and just go see it. I am not going to spoil anything for you, because everyone deserves to experience it without having major plot points revealed before they even consider venturing into the theatre. Star Wars is something that I am passionate about, and with the release of the newest major motion picture in the greatest franchise that has ever been, that passion has been stirred in me once more.

I have loved Star Wars for the majority of my life. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at a family friend’s house, watching Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. I remember C3-PO sitting, broken into pieces. I remember the music. I remember small details that probably should be taken up with more ‘significant’ information. There was a period of time where I couldn’t watch it at home, because we didn’t have the video tapes.

It was around this time that Episode I: The Phantom Menace came out. I was nine years old at the time. I can recall my feelings in that theatre to this day. It was a school friend’s birthday party. I sat in the darkened room, waiting in anticipation. The moment finally came when the fanfare began to play, and the tale began to be told in yellow words rolling slowly up the screen. I loved every moment of that movie. I even loved Jar Jar Binks, so much so that I regularly spoke Gungan for a long while afterwards. Hey, I was nine okay. We all have our youthful eccentricities.

My love deepened with the release of each of the new prequel trilogy, and with every moment I spent watching the original trilogy on my shiny new DVD player. From Luke’s first steps in exploring the Force, to the climax of Return of the Jedi, to the lightsaber duel at the end of Episode III, I was captivated by the universe created by George Lucas and his team of wizards.

As I got older, I started exploring the Extended Universe, and forming my own opinions with regards to the universe. Han shot first, of course. Jar Jar Binks…well…my love for him ebbed. But my love for the series as a whole only grew deeper. Everyone has the movies that defined them throughout their youth. Amongst mine are the Star Wars films.

When I reached the end of my schooling days and entered university, I found that I was not the only person in my city that was obsessed with the Force. I forged friendships talking about what could have been, what should have been, in the lives of Luke, Leia, Han, and all of the rest of the merry band of rebels. Many of them have lasted to this day, and will likely last the rest of my life.

I owe much of who I am to Star Wars. So, when I say that you should go and see Episode VII, you know that I am a biased source. Maybe you have yet to see a Star Wars movie (like my very own mother). Maybe you know the name of every character in every Episode. Whatever your relationship with Star Wars, go see Episode VII. You may find yourself falling in love, as I have.

Fellowships, Old and New

To come to Korea, Kris and I left our South African friends behind. It was a painful thing to do for both of us. While we may not have the widest friendship circles, we have formed deep bonds with a number of people. It is the desire to see these friends and our families that is the primary force drawing us back to South Africa. However, as we have spent more time in Korea, we have bonded with others here. Sadly, this weekend, we had to say goodbye to a pair that we have grown remarkably fond of. Even though we only knew them for a couple of months, we forged a friendship that will (hopefully) last a long time.

The lovable gent in the cover photo is Holm. He is a scholar, a gentleman, and, occasionally, a model for the fashion properties of pumpkin pie. It is Holm and his lovely girlfriend Kristy that we had to say goodbye to.We spent yesterday with them, doing what we love to do best – eating, playing board games, and talking about everything and nothing. We met at a sushi restaurant, walked over to play Munchkin at a nearby bakery, then ventured to a Western-style restaurant for our final meal together. It was a fitting end to chapter one of our friendship. When we parted, I was fighting off tears. I will miss them both immensely.

Today, on the other hand, was a day of bonding for both Kris and I. Kris went to have a bitch and stitch (a feminine gathering where they knit and catch up) with one of her close friends, Robyn. She will also be leaving Korea next March, but that is a tale for another post. I spent my day writing and gaming, before Kris returned home and we had a Skype session with this scalliwag:

Findlay Matheson. The only thing longer than his hair is his influence in my life. Findlay is my oldest friend. He and I often spend hours talking about inanities that most of humanity would abandon after mere moments. Tonight’s Skype was a brief discussion about his brother’s partner’s pregnancy, general catch-up, and an intricate discussion of XCOM: Enemy Unknown. Yes, we have our priorities completely correct. Words, even my words, cannot describe how much this man means to me.

Friends are important in keeping ourselves sane. Or at least suitably, functionally insane. New friends such as Holm and Kristy and old friends such as Findlay help me keep touch with exactly how much we have accomplished in our time in Korea. This is a formative part of my life, with decisions that I make now likely having far-reaching implications into my future. With friends like these, I know I will be guided on the correct path for me. They say if one can hold a friendship for seven years, it will last a lifetime. I have been friends with Findlay for more than twenty. I foresee Holm and Kristy reaching similar lengths. I cannot wait for the moments that I will share with these, and all of our other, friends in the future.

Whether we stay in Korea for a long time or come home after our next contract, it is friends that will help us along the way, and friends that will be there to cheer us on as we reach our dreams. Whatever the future holds, Kris and I will face it with input from our friends. Thank you for always being there for us.