Hyochang-dong, Seoul, Korea,
December 29th, 2023

Dear RJ,

In our call some weeks ago you mentioned you were trying to figure out what’s worth pursuing for the next few years. I said when it comes to that question, I regret not trusting my intuitions enough and pointed to my experience dancing. I advised that you lean into your intuition and trust that it will self-select the right work. Then again, 塞翁之馬—I have the privilege to look back and retrofit.

I’ve been mulling over what I said because I wasn’t sure my words made sense. Here’s my organized thoughts.

How It Began

Bboying, was born out of anguish, and my dance inherited that spirit.

Years of nonstop migration from one culture to another left me exhausted with a chronic identity crisis. My whole life I trained to put up a daring facade and emit high energy, when in truth my constant fear and anxiousness flamed that energy. The weight of expectation—to survive, adapt, and excel in any new culture, without parental oversight—crushed my soul, and I lay twitching on the ground.

The perfect time to cry for help came, but I’d forgotten how.

All my rage and frustration started to leak out, manifesting in self-harm.

I loathed myself.

People told me I was a quick learner when it came to things in life. With dancing, I was horrible from day 1 and learned to fight for every millimeter of progress. Dancing came so unnatural that it took 9 months of daily practice just to get a decent handstand. I kept at it because I sucked. The problem of my uncoordinated body felt much smaller than seething life issues. Dance was the escape shuttle that whisked me away from an unstable to a stable world—a relief from all mental and emotional woes.

My square parents flat-out disapproved, and that resistance enchanted dancing with its edginess. It was the first time I stepped outside their approval to chase something of my own. I don’t remember making a conscious choice.

Kids around me getting into dance had an influence, but no one made me do it.

No gatekeepers.

Zero barrier to entry.

Nothing required.

The terror of life pushed me into a corner where, with tunnel vision, I made the most impulsive decision of my life.

The Regret

The regret I hold is that I never learned to love dancing.

We’re told stories of people to model who’ve embodied the zeitgeist of “do what you love.” It’s the soundbite in our ear since childhood.

It’s important, yes. But you can’t do what you love, if you don’t learn to love what you do.

A chronic problem I had was I reviewed my dance footage once in a blue moon. The footage held all truth. Honest moments captured with complete disregard of anyone’s feelings or judgements. Because I viewed vulnerability as worse than death, in my mind, these otherwise harmless videos transformed into abomination.

The content displayed my shortcomings, faults, and all that’s weak and ugly one after another in high definition. I encased my fragile ego in heavy armor and couldn’t bear to see me naked even for minutes. Like Victor Frankestein, I couldn’t love my own creation.

Understand that loving what you do with its imperfections don’t come natural. Bare yourself, stomach the discomfort, be fearless, and embrace what you see.

Only by killing our darlings do we improve.

One day, the inner voices that aggravated me, that fueled my earliest desire to dance, disappeared and along with it my teenage angst. I lost my raison d’etre. Instead of admitting loss, I kept myself busy by dancing out of habit.

I wouldn’t have confessed then, but I had no desire to improve my skill; I didn’t know anything beyond the dance world and was scared shitless to venture elsewhere. Sure, I improved, but it was improvement while coasting in my comfort zone.

If I could go back, I wish I did the exacting work of staring down my fears and surfing my unstable emotions.

Sooner or later, at some point, you will face the unknown, something unexpected no one mentioned. Know a full commitment doesn’t feel like what you think a full commitment should feel like. Commitments are laden with uncertainty, hard to relax, and high stress.

Notice the correlation between the strongest human relationships and making it through the toughest times. Relationships where life hasn’t tested the commitment—while easy, enjoyable, and good—often remain stuck in infancy.

Believe in the power of commitment and fully commit. Trust yourself.

Yours:
See Eun Ha