[EN] 20260414~20260415 waterbalance

20260414 

struggles with archiving, SOUNDLOG

leaves resembling falling rain

Lately, maybe because I've been meditating everyday, the cycle of sensing - collecting - experessing has become more faster, more complex, more abundant.
So I’ve just been moving through this cycle like I’m playing, really freely and excitedly.
Because of that, I’ve been using Instagram more often as a way to archive things quickly, almost in real time.

But, actually, platform itself is so image-based that I become a bit self-conscious about writing long texts. (It also feels lke the ecosystem subtly makes me monitor and filter myself.) And then there is the feedㅡthe way of images are arranged so neatly. It somehow triggers my urge to organize everything, to make the whole feed look beautiful, polished, and presentable. I noticed myself wanting to package it nicely.
Sometimes it even leans a bit toward something like self-love mixed with voyeuristic pleasure…? And that leaves me feeling slightly uncomfortable.
It’s hard to just record things freely and roughly, to let them be messy and unrefined.
It feels like everything has to be organized first.

So, I spent the morning—about 3 hours—trying out different things, like building a handmade web system, using a private Instagram account, and a bunch of other experiments, as I was trying to figure out a more healthy and natural way of archiving.
It felt a bit like trial and error, almost like I was fumbling around.

Sound log… it’s a video work based on organizing materials through sound. It was really fun to make, and it feels like a method of archiving that actually suits me, so I’m quite satisfied with it.

The link is below...

SOUNDLOG [april1/2]

I also decided to use my blog for more loosely structured daily writing and rough image-based records.

I was so absorbed in this whole problem and trying to solve it that I ended up spending around 9 hours on it. I barely ate properly and couldn’t even do yoga.
In the evening, while taking a walk, I found myself asking: was today a failed day or not? I tried to answer myself—maybe it was actually a successful day in the sense that I stayed deeply focused and resolved something that had been sitting with me for a while.
But then I also questioned it again: what does that even matter if I didn’t take care of my body…? I kept going back and forth between these two thoughts.

In the end, I concluded that it was both a successful and an unsuccessful day in different ways—overall, just not a bad day. Maybe that’s what life is like anyway.

Before going to sleep, I recorded the sound of the rain because I liked it.

And my husband’s breathing while he was asleep…

20260414

Woke up at 7 a.m.

Right after waking up, around 7:30, I went for a walk with my husband and our dog.
We laughed a lot and walked quite a lot.

We kept walking through the narrow forest paths inside a wide park, losing track of time. At some point, we got a little lost and my husband was almost late for work.
But he was surprisingly relaxed, while I was the only one getting anxious, which made the whole situation kind of funny.

From 7:30 to 8:30, that hour felt genuinely happy. After 8:30, I started to feel rushed, but now that it’s night and I’m writing this, It just remains as a funny and cute memory.

An image that stayed with me from the park…

1. My husband pointed out that the occasional sharp, unusual blades sticking out from the grass looked like glitches within the lawn. I found it fascinating because I had always thought of them that way too, but never said it out.

2. A man wearing a turban was riding a bicycle while reading a book, completely hands-free. He looked surprisingly skilled and calm, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

3. The trees reflected on the river looked almost pixelated. The leaves felt like tiny fragments of an image, and the entire surface of the river felt like a screen.

For lunch, I made a Brussels sprouts dish inspired by Zaytinya, a Mediterranean restaurant in New York. It feels like the best dish I’ve made this year.
The cooking process required a lot of waiting time, but that actually made everything else—washing dishes, preparing ingredients, cleaning up flow really easily.
The whole process felt simple and happy. I found myself thinking, I used to really love this kind of food. Later, I wrote this on Instagram:

“I like food that is slowly cooked, simple, but layered with subtle aromas. It matches the pace and intensity of my body very well. When I let go of labels like healthy food, slow food, or plant-based eating, and just try to feel the body and the food itself, this tendency becomes even more detailed and clear. I realize there is also a kind of taste that cannot be explained by those categories.”

I often think that slow people inevitably get pushed around in this society. And yet, things like tea, yoga, vegetable cooking, taking care of a dog, and teaching are activities where my slowness, patience, and observational sensitivity become real strengths.
I feel grateful for that.

Afterward, I took a nap and then did a yoga session for about 2 hours.
At the beginning, while doing balance poses, I found myself asking, why do I like balance poses so much these days? I stayed with that question for a while and spent about an hour there. Then I shifted my focus to opening and releasing the lower body.
Lately, I’ve been realizing that the lower body really requires patience—it needs time, repetition, and familiarity, both in yoga and in strength training.

And that was the end of the day.

In the evening, I went grocery shopping with my husband, and we also took our dog for a walk together. My husband went into the market while I waited outside with the dog. At that moment, I buried my face into the top of his head and breathed in. It felt like we were both connected inside a world made of something soft—almost like cotton—and for a brief moment, everything felt deeply calm and comforting.

After dinner, I was reading my teaches's book, Mangbu, Reading the Yoga Sutras with AI (2025), and I loved it so much that I reached out to him and signed up for one of his meditation courses. I feel that he is the only person in Korea who teaches meditation in a way that is both scientifically grounded and still very accessible. I enrolled with a sense of deep respect and admiration.

“Most people would not willingly give up familiar pleasures. Then who would ever begin meditation or cultivate samadhi?”
Patanjali smiled and said,
“That is a good question, Mangbu. Those who begin meditation or samadhi are usually those who have experienced suffering. People who have felt a deep crack or pain in their lives, and have come to recognize that it arises from ignorance.
The greater the suffering, the stronger the effort to resolve it.
And sometimes, wise people may only see a small trace of suffering—or even witness the suffering of others—and still turn inward in search of peace. I call this a kind of subtle wisdom, like being startled just by the shadow of a whip.”

“True wisdom does not arise from texts alone, but reveals itself through one’s life.
May there be light on the path you walk.”

Me: An analysis of breathing… it’s very precise.
Thank you for your continuous dedication to practice.
Teacher: This is the mind of an early dawn at a small rural yoga studio in Korea.

I asked ChatGPT something interesting — why I used to love backbends but now I’m more drawn to balance, from a somatic perspective. The answer surprised me.
It said that it could reflect a shift in my internal state — that as anxiety settles and emotions become more integrated, the body naturally moves toward presence and center. That the body flows like that. I was kind of shocked, because it felt exactly right.

Current state — core summary:
Breath meditation is possible → attention is stabilizing
Preference for balance poses → forming a center
Tight lower body → stability and boundaries still in the process of being learned

Psychological translation:
“Openness has become possible, and now I’m in the stage of building a self that doesn’t collapse.”

Got a little excited after hearing that, and then immediately got into the Yoga Dipika, following the impulse. I think I have this pattern — after getting deeply immersed in creating, I swing straight into an intense phase of yoga.

I mentioned it to my husband, and he just smiled at me like he had nothing to say, but found it kind of cute… I’m grateful for a husband who just gives me love.

And that’s the end of today… ~

Oh, and the sound I recorded this morning was Ddoodoo’s bath.

All through April, I’ve been walking while looking up at the sky. When I do that, I can feel the roundness of the Earth — like I’m attached to the ground, moving across it, traveling the whole planet.
My body and the Earth feel like one, dissolving together, transforming into something light — like cotton or feathers. It also feels strangely similar to Ddoodoo’s scent.

Water, rain, clouds, cotton, flow, cycles, washing, balance…

These seem to be the themes of late April.