an immigrant's lament

 

maybe it's because of the letter Joel sent me from the Old Korean Legation Museum

or maybe it's because I watched something with two old friends hanging out in their place of memory which looks similar to mine

maybe it's because forsythia just began to bloom 

maybe it's because of the rain for a few days which added double shots of melancholy 

I've been feeling a sense of loss and grief

something I would name as a mild version of homesickness

it comes to me like a seasonal allergy

I am keenly aware that it's a consequence of the choice I made

and I would rather be in pain than numb

lamenting the fact of not having a place to call home

and let the grief run its course

meditating on Jesus 

as an immigrant

Lenten reflection

as the Lenten journey gets longer

purple gets deeper

cross looks closer, bigger, and heavier, 

with a weary heart of Lenten fatigue

we know it's time to prepare for death and burial

of Jesus

of something in us no longer life-giving. 

Whatever form it happens

we are reminded 

by recognizing what's lifeless, letting it die, burying, and sealing it, 

we also become pregnant with a new life.

The place of burial 

also becomes a birthplace of something new. 

That's probably why he named his death 

"a time to be glorified"

my first mug

 

As I was driving away from the studio into the dark cold night

I realized that I had no thoughts or emotions

during the past couple of hours

I was just focusing on the clay and the wheel

with no intention or effort on my part

I practiced deep mindfulness

The color and taste

The color and taste of green tea
tell me the temperature of the water was just right,
which happens rarely.
As the speed of the snowfall gets faster
I try to drink my tea as slowly as possible.
At times
I want to be out of sync with the world.

I like to think

 I like to think of myself as a mystic

drawn to the unknown realm of God

and wisdom in the complexities of life

with melancholy as a tool to explore them all.

Cain's book was insightful in understanding

myself and others in this journey.

I'm still learning

I'm still learning about what happens

to the clay and the colors when it gets fired.

I painted it leaf green and it came out brown.

I wanted a fresh palm branch, but instead,

I got one in the process of turning to ashes..

.(then maybe to some form of a new life...)

I plan to use it tonight to hold ashes for Ash Wednesday service.

Even though

 Even though I chose the shape, design, and colors,

I couldn't imagine what the final outcome

of my first pottery project would look like.

But no matter what it looks like in the end,

I knew all along how

I would feel about it...imperfect yet beautiful.