Lead, Kindly Light

The ten rules from “My Sassy Girl” -

1. Don’t ask her to be feminine.
2. Don’t let her drink over three glasses. She’ll beat someone.
3. At a cafe, drink coffee instead of coke or juice.
4. If she hits you, act like it hurts. If it hurts, act like it doesn’t.
5. On your 100th day together give her a rose during her class. She’ll like it a lot.
6. Make sure you learn fencing and squash.
7. Also be prepared to go to prison sometimes.
8. If she says she’ll kill you, don’t take it lightly. You’ll feel better.
9. If her feet hurts, exchange shoes with her.
10. She likes to write, encourage her.

Watch the video to Shin Seung Hun’s “I Believe,” the theme song of “My Sassy Girl” here

The movie had some weird tangents that could have been omitted to make for a much more concise and poignant movie. But some parts were just priceless (see the ten rules above), as was the occasion for watching it. A surprise DVD, the prize of his hunt in K-Town’s videostores. Smooth move, Romeo.

For months, I couldn’t even listen to this song. I faithfully kept it on my ipod even as I shuffled other songs in and out of my current collection, but I was just as faithful in skipping it every time the familiar sprinkle of beginning notes began to sound.

When summer gave way to autumn, just as the leaves turned their full bronzes, golds, blazing reds, and blinding yellows, I felt the seasons begin to shift in my heart. I remember the first time I went back to play this song on the piano. It was oddly comforting to me then, though I was frustrated that my Korean fluency skills were infinitely minimal so I couldn’t sing along. I’d read some English translations, but surmised that none of them captured the true essence of the emotions of the song. “Was the world dazzling before I met you? Underneath that sky, all I’m left with are tears. I will save this place next to me…”

With only the melody to keep me company, the memories (in such a short time, so many were made, and magnified) just tumbled back in droves and swirled around me as I played. After months of holding back and protecting myself, I finally let myself go. With no one home except for the piano and me, the apartment was large enough to accommodate the mountain of emotional baggage that I hauled in with the simple movements of my fingers on keys of white and black.

* * *

I am thankful (and relieved?) to say that it’s getting easier and easier to leave this behind — the right way (I think), this time. It’s a daily exercise in lifting up the entire burden to God and asking Him to manage it, and manage me.

The picture painted on my heart last summer was full of promise; it was beautiful, vibrant, and irresistibly captivating. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, even when the Artist abandoned the picture. And there it has remained, an unfinished portrait of what might have been. As time ticks on, the paint continues to dry and the color continues to set on the canvas of my heart. The Artist may have ceased to paint the picture I wanted most, but He certainly has not abandoned me. On the contrary, He keeps adding scenes in the forms of family, friends, and experiences.

And as the canvas of my life both extends and becomes more populated, the painting I desired so greatly at one time has lost its urgency along with (dare I say this?) some of its significance. But it still has a role to play. Though I have often wished for selective amnesia of the heart or an emotional drug to numb my senses, I have gradually come to embrace a different hope. I’ve decided that I still want to hang onto these, my sweetest of bitter memories. They are part of me, indelible pieces of my heart’s past and proof that it can love recklessly.

“Love is the only reason… as days pass by, if you forget the way, I’ll be waiting…“