"Have a great, wonderful, nice, perfect day!"

Albert is one of my youngest students, and probably the only one who can pull off the name "Albert." He speaks in full sentences, and his mantra is "Sit up straight." At least once in class, he will exclaim, "Teacher, so-and-so is not sit up straight!" At the end of class, he will chase after me before heading to the elevator to wish me a "great, wonderful, nice, perfect day" or some other variant with just as many positive adjectives. I don't think he knows how much that makes my day.

Ever notice how the smallest things can get you down? It's really easy for me to spiral in a negative reaction to Korea.

It's too cold and the winter and too hot in the summer.

I hate not speaking the language.

The main food group is fermented food and that makes me queazy.

There's no point in lengthening the list. It's obviously easy to complain. No, I am not staying in Korea more than a year, but it's not because I hate life here. Truth be told, I find it intriguing, peaceful, and even fulfilling at times. I'm leaving because there are other things I want to do, and I can't have both. I don't love everything about Korea, but let's be honest, I don't love everything about anywhere. A little nudge is all it takes to wake up the pessimistic monster and anything can be bitterly perceived.

That realization got me thinking about what I love about places. Why was it that when, after a long journey back from Florida, I was happy to be "home"? How could I use that word? It isn't just about where you are in the world, but where you are in life, what you are doing. There is joy to be found in every place we are. Especially when, like me, you're pretty lucky with life: you have a job, a place to live, great friends, wonderful family... the list goes on.

So what makes a great, wonderful, nice, perfect day?

1. A friendly face - Obviously friends are helpful here, but beyond that, I mean strangers who don't scowl or act like no one is around but who simply smile. Recognition is always nice here. When I was studying in Japan, I developed a relationship with my neighbors' son, who was about 3 or 4. I saw Aoi-chan every day on my way to school and I would simply smile. The first few times he just stared, but eventually he would smile back and wave, even come chase after me and walk down the street with me until we parted ways. We never really exchanged a word. In Daejeon, one of my favorite people is the Family Mart lady, who sees me come in practically every day before work and always has a huge smile on her face. Sometimes I go in just for that, even if I don't actually need anything. It makes the routine pleasant, even when I am running a little late (or very late).

2. Successes - Ok, this also seems obvious but teaching I often miss small successes that are really worth noting. Tom is my favorite example here, because it took me a while to realize how far he'd come. When I first started teaching him, he didn't know a short 'a' from a long 'a' and on one occasion, actually fell asleep mid-sentence. And I don't mean mine. This was a student I taught for eight months, one on one, and at some point in January, I realized he could spell (kind of). He was reading, writing and actually carrying conversations with me, and instead of dreading the class, and hoping he was absent, I looked forward to it. He became one of my most enthusiastic students. Yet even so, I would so often get frustrated in class, either at the fact he never did his homework, or at his game of purposefully answering questions wrong (ever notice how kids really don't get tired of a joke very fast?). In all that, I forgot to be amazed that his English was now good enough to play that game.

3. The weather - I don't just mean sunshine, that one's too easy. I mean even the cold or rainy days. Appreciate the clothes you can wear, the food you can eat, the sound of the rain, coming in from the cold, a hot drink. I love the spring more because it comes after winter. Yes, winter is cold, but hey, we have heaters and sweaters and delicious warm food to warm us up, but one of my favorite times to go to a park is when it's cold, because it's so quiet, so still.

4. Cherry blossoms - The great thing about cherry blossoms is that you have to enjoy them while you can, because next week they'll be gone. They are the epitome of fleeting beauty. You can't love everything for being ephemeral, but you can't forget to enjoy something because it's always there.

The great thing is, I could probably go on for a very long time as I listed thing after thing that could get a smile out of me, and make my day, so with that, have a great, wonderful, nice, perfect day!

What Might Not Have Been

"Every man has had one horrible adventure: as a hidden untimely birth he had not been, as infants that never see the light. Men spoke much in my boyhood of restricted or ruined men of genius and it was common to say that many a man was a Great-Might-Have-Been. To me it is a more solid and startling fact that any man in the street is a Great Might-Not-Have-Been." G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy.

Chesterton goes on to liken the entire cosmos to the salvaged goods from Robinson Crusoe's wreck: "The trees and the planets seemed like things saved from the wreck." As I read this today I looked at the single plant in my apartment, that is still in recovery after an unfortunate encounter with the freezing cold and suddenly I was amazed by the possibility of its recovery. For a moment, it seemed the poor thing was on an epic journey for survival.

Everything in the world today has survived. But most of the time, we forget to marvel at all there is, and only lament what was lost. We have so much, everything becomes worthless;. After all, it is all so easily replaced. A job today seems worth much more than it might have five years ago, because if you lose it, your chances of finding a new one are not as good. But we should always treasure what we have as though it could disappear tomorrow; we should treat everything as a blessing since the very fact that we are alive is such a wonderful gift and an amazing reality.

I am the first to be guilty of wondering what might have been. As my departure from Korea draws near, I often wish for it to come faster out of excitement for what comes next. Yet I know that I am here now, and will be for three more months and when the lament of what could be rises, I know I should instead contemplate what might not have been. What might I not have seen, whom might I not have met, what I might not have learned. I should be amazed at where I am, for it might not have been.