littlewonderlog

Sometimes, just immersing oneself in what’s really intriguing can be the answer.

Chef Kwon Sung Jun, a.k.a. Napoli Matfia from the Culinary Class Wars improved his English dramatically while watching Gordon Ramsay’s YouTube videos. With a strong desire to learn cooking techniques, he watched those videos over and over again even though there were no subtitles available back then, and one day he could just understand most of them.

It might have been more difficult if he had been watching those videos only to improve his English. Sometimes, just immersing oneself in what’s really intriguing can be the answer.

I recently realized what’s important in the process of building a habit.

It’s doing it regardless of my mood.

Whether I am in the mood for it or not, it’s important to do it no matter what.

Even when I’m not in the mood, it’s important to work out anyway. Even when I’m not in the mood, it’s important to practice English anyway.

Plus, the joy of being the master of your mood, rather than being dragged around by it, is another bonus.

There used to be times when my fingernails were about 0.5cm longer than my fingertips.

Playing the piano made long nails unwelcome guests, and weekly trimming made gel nails a luxury. I managed to maintain gel nails every 2 weeks, but I finally said goodbye to them when I started baking.

Short fingernails still feel a bit unfamiliar and colorful nails are still missed, but it’s just a reminder of the fact that there’s a price to pay for certain choices.

But I like the choices I made, so the regret isn’t that great.

 

The dopamine moment while writing that makes me feel like I’m the center of the whole world is when the grammar checker says there’s no error.

It’s a rare moment, which makes it even better.

When I get a compliment while speaking in Korean, I feel comfortable responding with “Oh, no no.” And in English, I feel comfortable responding with “Thank you”.

Saying “Thank you” to a compliment in Korean makes me feel like an arrogant snob, while saying “Oh, no no.” in English makes me feel like an insecure loser.

The world of language is really intriguing.

Whether I go swing dancing after a 3-year break, do some shuffle dance steps after 6 months, or have a conversation in English after 3 months, it just comes out. I thought I might have lost it all (or a lot of it), yet it’s all there. Sometimes, even the things that I used to struggle with magically got easier.

What the body remembers doesn’t go away, even if you want it to.

As part of my tough training process for my weak body that screams even with a slight bend, I’ve been doing the leg splits recently and found the perfect time for it. It’s right after taking a shower while drying my hair. A hot shower warms my body and softens my muscles – perfect for tearing them apart. It still hurts, of course. It brings out the natural screams from the core. Arghhhhhhhh. But it’s way better than when my body is cold and stiff. Much better.

For me, hair drying time after a shower is also the time for reading English books. The scene is weird, I must admit. Splitting (well, “trying” to split) my legs in front of the mirror and blowing my wet hair all over the place while reading an English book aloud is just bizarre.

Still, I can’t afford to miss that golden time. My stiff body certainly can’t. It’s the best time for the leg splits, and I just can’t miss it.

There are those times when you feel like nothing seems to work. Everything you try fails or simply doesn’t work, and you don’t see any progress. Still, when you face so many trials and errors, it means that you’re also building a database of what doesn’t work. It means you are actually getting closer to the ways that work. Failing again and again makes you feel like you are going backwards, but you are actually moving forwards. Why are we always able to see it only when we look back?

Even when nothing seems to work, you can’t stop. If you want something, there’s no choice but to push further.

You just can’t stop; instead, you have to push even harder – until you see something, until something finally happens.

A sponge baseball bat, a Children’s Day present for my nephew a few years ago, has fulfilled its duty and responsibility, and we replaced it with a new aluminum bat. It’s just a few bucks, but the boy was excited. Before going to bed, he put it next to his pillow and lay down. And then he sat up and touched the bat saying, “Is my precious aluminum baseball bat doing alright?”

My phone I put near my pillow is worth more than 25 times as much as the bat, yet my joyous feeling toward it is less than 0.25% of his.

I used to have those precious things next to my pillow (I can’t really remember what they were though). I would set them down, lay down, and then look at them again and touch them.

During the upcoming spring-cleaning day, I might need to look for “the ability to put some precious things next to my pillow and feel joyous multiple times” in my dusty piles of junk in my closet.

I don’t remember throwing it away, so it must be in there somewhere.

Here’s the season where killing is not wanted but inevitable. I kill for my survival (very dramatic version it is). I don’t enjoy this killing season but I have no choice (perhaps). I can’t ignore the existence that tampers with my precious bananas and neither can I ignore the one that sucks my blood while I’m in my heaven in my dreams.

I can hear the electrically frying sound of killing from the blue-light-spreading trap in the living room and the racket I swing half-awake. I feel bad about killing, yet at the same time I feel this slight joy at the fact that I’m the one who survives.

Unfortunately, and sadly, the killing season is here.