Last day in San Diego

Sixteen hours from now I will be standing at the ticket counter checking in baggage for a flight to Hong Kong. With a slight ocean breeze, the weather outside my house in San Diego is a warm 63 degrees Fahrenheit. I just spent my breakfast on my porch over-looking a horse racetrack 15 miles away. As the leaves rustled with the rhythmic beat of the wind, I stared at the crystal blue sky forgetting the mental checklist of things I needed to do before my flight.

The weather in San Diego is great. I would go as far as to say, the best in the country. While living in New York City, most New Yorkers would ask me, “Why did you ever leave?”

I admit, if life was only dictated by weather, that would be a fair and just question without a rational answer. But life is not only dictated by the weather. Often, life is this nebulous state of being defined by complex unique experiences.

I feel whenever someone has to leave a place they called ‘home’ for a long period of time, that person usually reflects upon the good times there as well as the bad. Not to use a cliché, but hindsight really is 20/20. Growing up in San Diego, this place will always have the feeling of a warm fleece pullover on a cold day. It's comfortable here.

During my time here I often wondered whether moving back to San Diego was the right life choice for me. I mean, not too many people would deny a promotion at a job they genuinely enjoyed in a company that was rapidly expanding to move back home and spend time with their 75 year old father and mother. When you add the fact that this job was in Manhattan, the center of the universe for all enjoyment purposes, and my parents live in a town of 2,000 people in desolate North San Diego County, the decision was a difficult one, and the transition while here even harder.

However, I do not regret my decision to move back one bit. I feel if I had decided to stay in New York, I would probably have regretted not spending time with those I love. When you add the fact that 75 years old is pretty damn old, the chances for me being able to spend quality time with my parents diminish exponentially as ‘Father time’ continues walking on the same path. This is true even more so as we all mature and have more and more time-consuming responsibilities such as a spouse, children and a career that forces you away from your hometown.

I guess in this respect, this life choice was the right one. Although it may not be the best choice from a career perspective, from an overall life perspective, using regret as the key indication for right or wrong, there was really no alternative. It has not always been easy being at home. I am sure most people can relate to the struggle between independence and honoring your parents’ wishes. However, I do feel it has generally been a good experience.

And now I’m moving to Asia for five months. This trip has been something I have wanted to do for a very long time. Realistically, this is also probably the last time I will be able to do it either. And, just like in my previous decision, I would hate to have the regret of not being able to accomplish this life goal.

Having grown up in Western-based American society, with a German father who has always had a strong influence in the culture of my family’s household, I often feel my mother’s culture has been marginalized by the stronger influences inside and outside the home. One clear example of this reality is the fact that I am fluent in German and English, but I can barely say two complete sentences in Korean.

It is important for a person to know where he/she comes from. I would hope, that when I have a family of my own, I would take the initiative to make sure they learn Korean, German, English and whatever traditional language my wife speaks. This is obviously very ambitious, but as most of you know, ambition is something I have in excess (see the million degrees I have as an example).

Language is very much the gateway to being exposed to the underlying aspects of a culture. I look forward to the trip. I look forward to being ‘lost in translation’ for most of the time. I look forward to struggling through the impossibility of learning a language as distant in familiarity as our nearest celestial object. I look forward to meeting some of my relatives I have not seen in 10 or 15 years. I look forward to kneeling on the ground and paying my respects at the graves of my grandmother, grandfather and great grandmother in the traditional Korean way. I look forward to seeing some of the other countries in Asia too.

But, most importantly, I am reminded of a quote by George Moore...

“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.”