"I am Ashley, I am six years old..."

This morning one of my students (labeled as a preschooler here in Korea, though she is five years old and is learning at the Kindergarten level), competed in this huge English competition.  

She did fabulously.

Held at a huge university in the Gangnam area of Seoul, the competition included students ranging from Kindergarten through high school.  Students competed against others of their own age.

But Ashely is a year younger than almost every other student in her age category.

And she was the very first contestant on this intimidating stage. 

With a panel of judges.

Here is a video of Ashley's speech.  I am still impressed by her pronunciation.  

It might be the cutest thing you see today.

Enjoy.

p.s. Don't miss the Tae Kwon Do demonstration after her performance.

Tunes, Toddy, and Lots O' Love

Alex and I celebrated our anniversary one week ago.  Four years ago we were married in a beautiful ballroom in our beloved city of Portland.  Four years of marriage feels like an accomplishment, and I am so very blessed to have started this journey with such a great man.  

I also feel comforted by the fact that we were married in Portland.  I really love Portland, and my time in Seoul has made me love the city of roses even more.

And today my friend Alison asked me about the music we played at our wedding.  Both Alex and I had our songs, and as we listened to them today I remembered that great day four years, one week, and one day ago.  To make the moment sweeter, Alison shared with me iced toddy made from Ethiopian Yirgacheffe beans and we enjoyed it as we nibbled on our homemade banana bread and cinnamon scones on my bright yellow couch.  I felt at home. There was something about the coffee, baked goods, good music, and great friends that made that moment special for me. 

Eat Your Greens

I've been learning contentment in my time here as a Seoulite.  Good days and bad days come and go, swaying my moods as they will.  I'm tired of letting my circumstances determine my emotions and mindsets.  That is not a healthy way to live, and though I have had many a wise person tell me this truth, it takes swaying with the days to realize that the swaying can make you sick.

Therefore, my recent goal has been to practice contentment each day.  This practice does not come naturally.  As in yoga, I am using my ugai breathing to inhale and exhale through the difficult moments.  The day can be easy and enjoyable, much like a yoga stretch, yet I sometimes find myself in an uncomfortable position, breathing through the moment that is difficult and wondering why something so apparently easy should cause me so much strain.

So, after a day of teaching energetic students and pouring out my energy on others, I come home to my husband and apartment and attempt to choose contentment once again.  I pull out my yoga mat, take a deep breath, and begin my practice.  And when I'm done I make myself a treat.  I take the healthy items out of my fridge and smile at the symbolism of finding sweet happiness within the things that are sometimes difficult to swallow.  I concoct a new creation filled with flour, spices, a little butter, and lots of carrots and zucchini.  I fill my french press as I bake my new recipe.  And in the midst of my circumstances I find great contentment in my cup of coffee and my slice of warm, spiced zucchini bread.

And then I eat my greens.

Blessed Moments

There are times when I consider my position in life.  I am teaching and living abroad, which is exactly what I wanted two years ago.  Alex and I are doing precisely what we felt lead to do back in the fall of 2010, and I feel so blessed to be the recipient of this opportunity.

Granted, I did not go to school so that I could teach children how to read.  No.  I have always wanted to teach older children, those who could already read, write, and think for themselves.  I wanted to impact lives, mold minds, and inspire young adults to faithfully improve their education and strive towards their goals.  I've always been filled with lofty ambitions.

And today I taught pre-school.  Actually, my five-year-old students here in Korea are studying curriculum used in the States for the Kindergarten level, and many of my students are far beyond even our extremely high expectations.  

 

And they love me.  And I love them.

When I walk into the hallways before school begins, the students yell my name across the way and run to give me a hug.  They speak in complete sentences, never using their native Korean language to communicate with me, and with excitement they ask me how I am and tell me about their weekend.

 Sometimes they make funny faces.  We play and laugh a lot.

And sometimes we get down to work.

 

 But we always end our day with lots of songs, games, and laughter.

And when I think of my lofty ambitions, my desires to inspire young minds and further the education of those who can think for themselves, I am reminded by these adorable faces that I am doing precisely what I set out to do.  They may not be what I had in mind when I followed God's lead a few years ago to become a teacher, but for now they are in His perfect plan.  I couldn't be more blessed.

 

You should lead an interesting life

Seoul is unpredictable.

This week we had a typhoon sweep through the area, or blow, rather.  Typhoons are very windy and wet.  I can't say I'm a fan, but I somehow feel more knowledgeable having experienced a mild version of a typhoon firsthand.  The storm blew in overnight on Monday and by Tuesday our classes were cancelled and the wind was blowing so loudly that it woke me up Tuesday morning.

Without classes, we did not have students.  Tuesday was the longest day I have had in a while.  Essentially we had prep time for 10.5 hours with almost nothing to do.  I tried to find the blessing in disguise, but to be honest, I was out of my mind with boredom.  My desk has never been cleaner, and now I have several Calvin and Hobbes comic strips neatly organized under the glass on my desk.  It feels like my place now, which is perhaps the blessing in disguise.  How could you not feel better with these two at your desk?

Calvin is funny, of course, but this particular clip from Mr. Watterson feels more poignant than comical.  India Arie begins her first song on her Testimony: Vol 1 album with a song with these words as they should be.  It goes like this:

Oh God, grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change,

the courage to change the things that I can,

the wisdom to know the difference.

Oh and God, give me the courage to love with an open heart,

to love with an open heart,

to love with an open heart.

I want to love with an open heart.

I saw this C&H clip today and immediately heard Arie singing her soulful tune in my head.  I also heard my mother's voice echoing the same words and sentiments.  I have been surrounded with such wisdom, yet I feel that at times I am unknowingly like Calvin.  Shame on me.

At times when I feel frustration regarding my circumstances, whether good or bad, (and let's face it, people are just as proficient in whining when their circumstances are good as they are when they are bad), I need to be alone.  I will wander through the park, go for a run, escape with a little yoga practice, or perhaps (due to my current city-living circumstances) climb the stairs to my building rooftop.  Standing above a city is somehow so serene to me, perhaps as it is for those people who love nature and like to stand in a forest all alone.  I would hate that particular circumstance, so my city-living circumstance is something for which I can be thankful.  A few nights ago the sky was beautiful: a blessing I could not ignore.  My camera and I are new friends, but I did my best to capture the scene.

What caught my eye most was not only the beautiful colors in the sky, but the many glowing crosses scattered throughout the rooftops.  Many are red, as seen in the picture above, but some have a warm white glow that make me smile.  Here is one.

I am consistently thankful for the crosses in the sky, the songs in my head, and the comical reminders on my desk that redirect my thoughts.  I am quite human, filled with imperfections, forgetfulness, and
myriad other issues that I'd rather not list; I can use all the help I can get.

We'll see what Seoul has in store for me next week.