However, I wanted to free myself up to write about a few more topics without feeling guilty because you dear readers would still be expecting The Rage, and maybe you would wonder why my blog was even called Rage in the A.M. if it wasn't ragey. (Somebody call Websters. Ragey, adjective, used to describe nouns that are filled with, surrounded by, or beat to death with rage.) So I thought I'd collect all the pictures I had so far of me stuffing my face with something and go with the whole Chubbo Chubbington theme, since ChubbO is definitely a theme here keeping pace with my internal firestorms. Heck, I have dreams about donuts. (And someone found my blog this week by googling "dreaming about donuts." How appropriate!) And I feel that being a ChubbO is not confined to your body weight. It's a lifestyle. It's about consuming what life offers you with a smile and shoving it Korean style (which means spoonful, and I mean SPOON IS FULL) into your face. Enjoying the company of those around you, enjoying the feeling of having a full belly, and enjoying the immensity of blessings heaped upon you. So, being a ChubbO is not about being overweight, or having a weenie wheel around your waist, or dreaming about donuts (although this is definitely a qualifying factor). It's not about lusting over food commercials (although this is perfectly acceptable behavior) or clapping your hands and jumping up and down when someone mentions ice cream. No, wait, I take that back. ChubbO is ALL about clapping your hands and jumping up and down when someone mentions ice cream. Anyhow, you get the idea. And if you don't, leave your questions in the comments and I shall dutifully reply. Perhaps I should come up with a ChubbO ManifestO. All that to say, welcome to the new, improved, but still kind of the same blog.
And I'm making some changes in my life dearest readers, whose comments cause me to lie on my bed in raptures, staring out at the blue Seoul afternoon sky and thanking the Provider of All Good Things for sending these kind, wonderful, delight-inducing creatures to read my bumblings, rumblings, and mumblings. (I'm re-reading some Jack Kerouac. Can you tell?) I want to live a simple, humble, and open life. And The Rage seems to be a hindrance. Although it will still be around and I'm sure you'll still get your healthy dose, it doesn't help me to be thankful, to feel blessed, to show kindness and love toward a generous people who have taken me into their country and done nothing but overpay me and completely ignore my own petty personal boundaries. When I stop to think about what's important to me, ending all the miseries of Metro Purgatory is just not high on the list.
I read a beautiful blog here the other day (read everything she's written, it's beautiful), at the suggestion of this guy, and I found that it was exactly what I had been looking for. Instead of walking around all day asking myself how I can get the things I want, how I can make things easier for myself, how I can avoid feeling obligated to others, I want to ask how I can love, how I can be kind, how I can give others what they want, how I can make things easier for others. So many Koreans (and Americans, and humans, essentially) are running all the time. At every moment, they are in a hurry to be faster, to be better, to be first in line, to earn the money, to get the thing that will make them happy. And they are in such a hurry to do these things that they run over each other, push each other, park their cars illegally, work until all hours without being kind to their bodies or their families. If I can show just one person, just one, how to slow down a bit, how to see what matters, how to be persistent in kindness or happiness or laughter, then I feel my purpose will be fulfilled. Because I've been floundering here in the Land of Morning Calm. (And it's no longer calm in the mornings. The streets are always alive, no matter the hour.) I've been wondering what it is I actually want to achieve in this year of having a job I don't really care for and am not entirely qualified for; this year of listening to strange sounds and trying to contort my mouth into wonderful shapes that make these sounds; this year of discovering how much I have to learn from my husband-to-be; this year of searching for my self-discipline, for my sense of responsibility; this year of no sweet tea, no grits and biscuits, no sweet tea, and no sweet tea.
And I have decided what I want to achieve:
I want to love my kids in a way that shows them they don't have to speak English or read English or be the fastest AT ANYTHING to be special and of worth.
I want to learn enough Korean to speak to Keun Ha's grandmother and tell her how much I appreciate her support and her fierce love for her family.
I want to treat my body with respect and kindness. I want my body to be part of the gift I give my husband, something I can be proud of and give with confidence. (He would take it like it is now. He even said to me the other day, "Danielle, don't lose The Belly, please. It won't be the same." See? An amazing man. Go get your own Korean, stop coveting mine! Ha.)
I want to show my parents and my sister that I wouldn't be who I am or going where I'm going without their support and their love.
I want to learn to give my time to others willingly, to heal broken things and people, to serve others because I have had enough time to myself.
I want to learn to cook Korean food so my husband can have a happy belly some of the time.
I want to write, write, rewrite, and write. I want to stop making excuses and write.
I want to read, everything and anything.
I want to find enough discipline to get up earlier than I have to, to make time to pray and think and be deliberate about my day, about my actions.
And most of all, I want to start a new life with my husband, conquering mountains, sitting with monks, and blessing the earth.
Oh, and I wanna eat a buncha good food. (In my best Southern twang.)
Readers, whom I have grown to cherish and look forward to hearing from like I look forward to seeing puppies on the street that will actually let me pet them and speak to them as if they could understand me, this is my 50th post. Wouldn't it be so cool if I got 50 comments? And can I just shout out to The Korean, who left a comment on my last post, what an honor! Seriously. I just got finished with my dance for you, and it included a lot of graceful bowing followed by lavish jumps and twirls and a few booty shakes. I also want to thank Two Left Feet, Sarah, Meghan, Chester Copperpot, Tariq, Anonymous, Bailey, Quirky, and Beloved for leaving kind words for me on my last post. And love to anyone who has ever left me a comment! I believe I am amassing the best readers on the Internets.
And for all of you who scrolled down to see if there was an engagement story stuck in here anywhere, sorry to disappoint. I'm waiting to tell you the real deal because I have something special to give you. A gift. But it's not ready yet. So be patient! I'll tell you all about it. But not in that "Hi, my blog has turned into a step-by-step account of my wedding plans and I'm so happy and you're still single hahahahahahah blah blah make you want to rip your eyes out I'm so cheerful and in love" kind of blogs. Don't worry.
What is the most loving thing for me to do now, after I hit Publish Post?
I believe it would be to write a long response to the beautiful letter I received in the mail from my good friend Nick, who also reads this blog and leaves priceless comments here often. What's the most loving thing for you to do now?