Peaks and Valleys

I love the feeling of being overwhelmed by life's complex surprises. I was looking forward to writing a post about climbing the highest peak in mainland South Korea (5, 564 ft, in case you were wondering). Or about how I always pronounce my Korean vowels wrong (the English equivalent: just think of Brad Pitt in Snatch).

 But this post is really about the peaks and valleys that, like Jiri-san, have filled our lives this month. We both are coming to a point where we feel like building something In Korea. Maybe the next is adventure is creating a home here, despite the temporary nature of our employment. It's like those Buddhist sand paintings that take the monks days to make, only to be finally torn down. Nothing is permanent, so why should we wait to be fulfilled until we find a "home?" Is there really such a thing, or is it possible to carry your contentment around with you, wherever you go? I'm feeling like the answer to that question is yes, and I feel blissed out to have been able to create so many incarnations in this one life of mine, only to tear them down and start over. And, for the first time, I'm looking forward to doing it as many times as possible before taking the final journey that we all must take.

 I guess the thing that's got me thinking about these cycles is finding out that Beau's Mom has lymphoma. She has fantastic chances for recovery, and she's been really positive about it, which will serve her and our family well in the coming months. But I can't help drawing parallels between her illness and my own mother's. Beth's chances are great. My mom's weren't (though she stayed very strong about it). She participated in a test study, to help the doctors try to find a treatment for other people. I'm happy for Beth's possibilities, and the life she can look forward to with our family, the kinds of relationships she'll be able to build with her family, the depth of connection that she can choose to have with her children. And it makes me miss my mom. But, if not for the experience of losing her, I might not realize how precious the time you have is, and I might not understand that pain is a chance to learn. I might not be awake to the cycles of life, and I might take too much for granted. And I wouldn't really understand what Beau's family is going through right now. So, the biggest feeling I have right now is deep gratitude for everything that has brought me to this point, and multitudes of love for Beau and his family.

 So I guess from this perspective, it's hard to distinguish the peaks from the valleys.