littlewonderlog

It’s been left untouched for about 3 months.

3 hours became 2 hours, and 2 hours became 1 hour, and eventually, even 1 hour became a burden. I didn’t have any space in my head for it. It was easier for me to concentrate when I could practice for long hours, and 10 minutes or 30 minutes a day felt like nothing. So on December 26th last year, I stopped playing the piano. I told myself (and the piano) that I would be back when things got better. I promised I would be back.

Then last night, about 3 months after I stopped, I was back. I was in front of the piano again.

That was rather fast. I thought it would take years. Every time I passed by the piano, I had this feeling of longing, and I had these doubts whether I was so busy that I couldn’t make even a little time for the piano. I finally realized something. I can’t fully commit to the piano now, yet I can play at least one song. I can’t pratice for more than 1 hour like I used to, yet I can play at least for 1 minute. I realized that I could play for just 1 minute before going to bed. It could be 5 minutes or 10 minutes from time to time. This tiny habit seems pretty great. It wouldn’t improve my skills much, yet at least it would prevent them from deteriorating. It wouldn’t improve my finger speed and dexterity much, yet at least it would prevent them from getting stiff.

So on the 1,697th day since I started playing piano again, today is more flourishing than yesterday.

Obviously, that’s the thing. They said eggs put directly into boiling water are easier to peel. It didn’t make any sense to me. Putting eggs in already boiling water might make the eggshells pop. There were going to be those hideous lumps of egg white exploding through the cracks. Well, but they said no salt and no vinegar, so I couldn’t help it.

I started boiling water in a pot, lightly washed the refrigerated eggs and put them in the boiling water. No vinegar, no salt. Just water and eggs. They recommended 8 minutes of cooking time, but I went for 10 minutes since I like hard-boiled eggs. I boiled the eggs for 10 minutes, let them sit in really cold water for a few minutes and started to peel them. And voila. It worked. It really worked. No eggshells were broken, not even a crack. Fascinating. The eggs were not fully cooked, though. They were somewhere between soft-boiled and hard-boiled, so I could call them soft-hard-boiled eggs. I think I will boil them for 12 minutes next time to make it my taste. Would it work again next time? I wish it would. It would, right?

I would like that person to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. That person who invented this incredible way of doing things. Who gave a person peace of mind while peeling eggs.

I was on my way to the south area to attend a funeral.

I knew that I was not supposed to do it, but I chose a book to read from the eBook service app, Millie Library, on my phone while sitting in the passenger seat. It was a light business book called “God of PR” written by former “Chungju Man,” Kim Sun-tae. I was right and it was quite a quick and easy read. Despite stopping by a highway service station, I finished the book within two hours.

I wasn’t very happy about putting aside my daily routine and schedule for the sudden funeral, yet I found satisfaction in utilizing the little time slots available.

Immersing myself in the book was rather easy and it was a fun reading experience overall.

I felt a bit guilty toward my driver. (Not that guilty, since he pissed me off a little and made me not feel like talking).

…and what I have learned from them.

They are called legends. I had never seen or heard of either of them before, yet they are said to be legends.

Chefs Park Hyo-nam and Hou De-zhu have lived their lives solely committed to cooking and have earned success and recognition in the industry.

Though they are called legends, from every word they say and their attitude toward others, I see humility, open-mindedness, a willingness to take on challenges, and a sense of calmness.

Although I am watching the Japanese-dubbed Culinary Class Wars Season 2 to learn Japanese, I realize again that I am not only learning Japanese while learning Japanese.

As I watch this show while doing the dishes, I remind myself to live my life with that kind of mindset and attitude.

While learning languages, I train my attitude toward life.

I train the attitude of dreaming, I train the attitude of committing, and I train the attitude of enjoying.

I am better trained today than yesterday, and I will be better trained tomorrow than today.

All thanks to learning languages.

Before my nephew entered primary school, I used to read him English books upon his visits. I would read the English texts, tell him the meanings in Korean, and joke about nostrils of the car in the picture. It was more about giggling than reading a book.

A couple of years later, now a primary school kid, he picked up that book from the shelf and started reading it aloud.

By himself, slowly yet clearly.

Probably because that book has quite a lot of rather long sentences, there were some unfamiliar or difficult-to-pronounce words for him. Still, he kept reading, one word at a time. I didn’t even ask him to do it. He might have just wanted to do it out of the blue.

“Oh, you can read it on your own now?”

“Yeah.”

It was cute and fascinating.

It’s always a pleasure to see someone enjoying the experience of a new language. Always.

The joy in learning a language comes from really tiny moments. There are those moments so subtle that they are sometimes almost unrecognizable. These moments have come before, and will likely come again tomorrow.

One of those moments is when pronouncing a certain word becomes possible after struggling for quite a while. Is it my tongue? Or is it the word? (It’s my tongue, yes, always). It had always been hard to pronounce that word, and then one day, it’s done. Clean and easy. Of course, sometimes, it goes back to the struggling stage. And then, it’s doable again. Back and forth. Those moments are precious. They may be considered minor events, yet they can feel huge. I mean, huge.

Another moment is when there’s an instant understanding of certain words learned a few months ago. They had been totally forgotten. Even the fact that I had learned that word was forgotten and the possibility of me speaking that word during conversations was close to zero. Yet, here they are. Catching that word while listening to an audiobook immediately brings back the understanding of its meaning. It also brings back the memory of the moment when I was learning that word. It probably went like this: Who would use this word? I’ve never heard this word before.

In language learning, there are these small and minor moments of joy.

Today, and someday in the future.

As long as I keep learning languages, those moments will be with me for the rest of my life.

They say there’s no easy task in life. In a way, that’s right. There’s no such thing. Something may seem easy, or someone may seem to do something easily, yet it all comes from an accumulated time of agony and struggle. It’s always been that way.

Still, even with difficult tasks, if there’s a sense of purpose, if the desire for results is so strong that it makes us forget how hard the task actually is, or if we may enjoy the process with the methods we can actually enjoy doing, it may not feel like such a hard task.

If the task must be done, if it is necessary, and if its difficulty cannot be an excuse for quitting, why not somehow enjoy it in our own ways without realizing how difficult it is?

Even if it must be done, maybe we can enjoy it a bit more.

It’s not such an easy task, yet somehow we can do it as if it’s a piece of cake.

Back when I couldn’t speak English well, I dreamed of having conversations in English with foreigners.

I thought to myself, “How great would it be if I could speak English well?”

How great would it be? How great was it?

Well, looking back, there wasn’t that much excitement. I wasn’t at the top of the mountain, but on the steps, one by one. It was all part of a continuous journey forward.

The joy was in the process itself, in each small step of building words and phrases one by one.

It’s in those tiny steps that are almost invisible.

The beginning is trivial.

“Ah, I just want to speak a couple of words.”

But once that happens, “Ah, I wish I could have basic conversations.”
But once that happens, “Ah, I wish I could have longer conversations.”
But once that happens, “Ah, I wish I could work in this language.”
But once that happens, “Ah, I wish I could read books in this language.”
But once that happens, “Ah, I wish I could speak fluently like a native.”

It never ends.

What do you want me to do?
How far do you want to go? You a**hole.