Like the sky
By Kim Sun-ae
At the end of summer, I went on a trip to Paju Book City near Seoul. The sky, seen out of the window of the double-decker bus, was blue.
The guest house where I stayed for a night is connected with a big library named the Forest of Wisdom. In the library, numerous books donated by individuals, publishers, and so on are on the shelves from floor to high ceiling. It is a library open to everyone ― and a heaven for book lovers.
In the Forest of Wisdom, there were many people from young children to senior citizens, each reading a book. Although it is said that a lot of people don't read books, I saw hope in the people there who like books. I was grateful for the spacious place full of books.
After reading a book in the library during the day which was still hot, I went outside when evening approached. The late afternoon wind was cool like the autumn breeze. I was joyful, walking with a light backpack containing a map, a water bottle, and a small notebook.
On the Sunday evening, I strolled along the quiet street lined with publishing companies. After taking in the buildings of some publishers I wanted to see, I arrived at a park. On the green hill several children were flying their kites.
On the way to the guest house it rained. The trees along the street became numberless umbrellas for me. It was also good to feel the drizzle on my face.
The rain stopped after a while. I stopped to read a poem written on the wall of a publisher.
“Who says I saw the sky / Who says I saw a clear sky / Without a single cloud // What you saw was dark clouds / You lived your whole life / Mistaking them for the sky.” (Shin Dong-yeop, “Who Says I Saw the Sky”)
Often we live mistaking dark clouds for the sky. However, inside every one of us is a crystal clear sky ― always.
When evening came, I entered a cafe in front of the guest house. I sat at an outdoor table in the garden with various plants and flowers that grew freely. The vast sky unfolded above the garden where music played. The evening sun shone in the sky covered with soft clouds. The setting sun painted the light gray clouds peach-colored. The birds flew in the perfectly beautiful sky. I was blissful, looking at the sky getting redder and redder, doing nothing. The sounds of the bugs here and there in the garden.
As darkness fell, I went back to the guest house. There were some books on the shelves in the room without a television.
When I opened the curtains at soft sounds in the deep of night, raindrops were knocking on the windows. The sound of the rain awakened my body and mind. Remembering that all of us are travelers who make journeys with an end, I'd like to live like an open sky, before my path ends.
Kim Sun-ae (blog.naver.com/dancinglf) wrote a book of essays, "A Journey to Myself."