Dear Reader,

When I booked a KTX ticket with literally no other plan than the fact that I would be heading to Busan at 10 a.m. on November 20, my friends called me the most impulsive person they knew. By the morning of the trip, I had a rough list of places I might want to visit and the Airbnb I would stay at for the night — but that was pretty much it. I usually don’t like making detailed plans that I know I wouldn’t end up following anyways, but one other “plan” I had for this trip was to travel alone. Although I enjoy occasionally going on trips, it was my first time doing so only by myself. Many people told me that going on a trip alone is really worth it, so it had been on my never-ending bucket list for a long time. And last month, in the midst of a perfectly burnt-out state, I thought it would be the perfect time to try it out.

The best part about traveling alone is that it allows you to discover more about yourself. You have the whole trip for yourself: you can do whatever you want to do. This gives you enough time to think about what you truly like spending time (and money) on, without other people’s influence in designing the trip. Well, ironically, I found out that I actually don’t like traveling alone that much. Not having anyone to excitedly talk to about how beautiful the beach sparkles in the sunlight and how amazing the food tastes had decreased the joy of the trip by half.

Nevertheless, having an ample amount of time by myself was a refreshing escape from reality. Oftentimes, it feels as if current society is just too busy, just too demanding that if I pause, I feel like I’d be lost or late. Wasting time is a crime; we are expected to be doing something meaningful every minute. However, this impulsive trip made me realize that I need time to sit by the beach just to mindlessly stare at the waves once in a while.

For a while, the suffix “-meong” has been a trend in Korea, which comes from the Korean slang that means to blankly stare into open space. Bul-meong, a combination of “fire” in Korean and the suffix, means to emptily stare at burning flames, like a campfire or candlelight. Mul-meong, adding the suffix to the Korean word for “water”, is to stare at the water for a long time — pretty much what I did in Busan for like a total of five hours. “Trendy” vocabulary or expressions usually reflect an underlying social phenomenon, and I think the common usage of “-meong” as a source of “healing” represents just how exhausted Korean society is. Everyone seems to be in desperate need of a break from everything in their lives, in need to be in a state of not doing anything. And that state is quite satisfying. It also ends up replenishing your motivation to return to reality. After all, being in a state of nothing gets quite boring after a while, wanting to get back to a state of “something” again.

Another year is coming to an end, and we all had our own year of happy memories and difficulties, hopes and disappointments. Life is full of ups and downs, and if we had a period of powering through life, we need a corresponding time to pause and recharge. After the chaos of finals passes by, I hope you, dear Reader, get to enjoy a well-deserved break from whatever you need a break from.

Have a nice break, and I’ll see you again next year.
 

Happy Holidays,

Jisun Lee

Editor-in-Chief