Heavy, harmonious summer

It's warm. Oh god, it's warm. That being said, the temperature itself would not be that difficult to bear on its own. It's the combination of tepid with a heavy load of damp that make Korea burdensome these days. Now drizzle, now rain, now grey smog, hanging, sitting, not moving. Making bodies greasy and unpleasant, boils appearing on once-clear skin, sweat pouring down necks and bellies, dampening clothes and hair and bedding. Making people thankful for the polluting air conditioners, for icy drinks, for sun's descent into dark night. Summer has arrived on the peninsula. Me, my pores, and my hair are not amused.

However, that being said, this autumn-loving Canadian feels well-fortunate and peaceful. I am surrounded by happy, beautiful life, even if some of us are a tad (ok very) uncomfortable these days. Roses climb walls, magpies glance skeptically, toads sit. Old ladies beckon and call at the market, give me extra pears and cucumbers for free, stuff me with noodles. Children call, "Nice to meet you, have a nice day!" from car windows, store keepers smile with surprise at seeing a foreigner, and the kind, good-natured wine seller down the street keeps giving me discounts and telling me I'm beautiful, despite aforementioned skin problems. This morning, a bicycle store owner calls, "Weh, weh?" loosely translated as "What's the problem?" as I walk by with dangling chain. He beckons me over and has me up and on my way in 5 seconds flat. The bakery and street vendors smile and try out their, "Thank you"s and "Where are you from"s on me. Arriving at work, my morning kindergarteners hop up and down, nearly bursting to tell me about their weekend picnics with mom and dad, their new baby cousins, their trips to the sea.

I spend the night at a temple up north, quiet, boring, beautiful. The outdoor candles flicker in the evening fog, the splashes of light from the windows and doors make patterns on the stone courtyard. Paper lanterns bob in the trees as monks sing their deep evening prayers. I read books, I sit for long, painful periods, look at the floor, think, and then try not to think. During dawn meditation, solemn, still, and quiet...the silence is broken by someone falling asleep, tipping over, and hitting the floor. I can barely contain my laughter. I jiggle on my mat and am reminded of all those times in church when me and my friends, beset with uncontrollable comic tremors, shake the benches quietly, hunch over and pinch ourselves, will ourselves with our all might to be quiet. In the end, (glares and threats notwithstanding) irrepressible mirth gets the best of us. God has a sense of humour.

And then, also, beauty like this...a monk, immersed in his art, on a shady sidewalk, surrounded by onlookers:

We are here in these Earth bodies for such a short time. Enjoy your stay, friends, wherever you are. ;)