Gwangju Writes In and Out of

In and Out of Time

Written by Sesetu Holomisa

When I walk home and observe my surroundings, I sometimes fi nd myself thinking, “I’m going to miss this.” Th ere’s simplicity in walking home when it’s a little cloudy, but it isn’t gloomy – when there’s warmth in the air, but the sun isn’t blazing; when it’s just a cool day. You see little people happily skip on the white lines of the crosswalk when the green human says go. Th ere’s a group of grandmas sitting on the side of the road selling fresh vegetables; the air is clean, and it’s just a normal day. Yet you know that there have been times where you haven’t taken the time to appreciate the moment, preoccupied with thoughts of your troubles – consumed by scenes of the worst parts of your day or week on replay, thinking of how you can’t wait for the weekend or a specifi c event in the future. Missing what’s in front of you, the moment that’s fi lled with the kind of normalcy you wish for when the thoughts in your head keep you up. Or when anxiety makes a temporary home out of you and makes you feel like it’ll burn that house down. You forget that these moments in an ordinary day are some of the best moments.

Yet, once you come to this realization, that voice telling you to appreciate the moment has harped on for so long that the moment has passed. You’ve made your way to your doorstep, and you’re distracted by what you’ll cook for dinner: “Should I just eat some left overs.” “Should I order some fried chicken? (Yes, treat yourself!),” but “No, you should save some money (Money!).” Th en you fi nd yourself wondering if you’re saving enough. You’re not sure what you’re saving for, but it’s important that you’re strict with your fi nances and limit spending. Th at’s what life is about, right? Making money . . . right? You don’t know. You’re not really sure of anything lately. In the midst of all the chaos happening in the world, you’re thinking more and more about life and what it means. Th ere’s no clear answer.

You’re on the bus and your stop is near. Th ere’s a primary school student across from you reading a webtoon on their phone. You think of when you were in primary school. Everything was so much easier, but you don’t remember enjoying it. Is this the point of time – to make you realize that you never really understand how good things are until they become a distant memory? But how can you be sure if nostalgia hasn’t worked its magical powers on the memories categorized as “the past” in your mind and made them a little more colorful than they actually were? Is that how we get by – by telling ourselves that we’ve had times that were fi lled with joy and to live long so we can seek all the little pockets of joy in between the beginning and the end?

You’ve gotten off the bus and you’re still thinking about the past, but you try to be a little more present in this moment. You need to reload your card at a convenience store near your apartment, and there you see some high school students eating some ramen before they go to their hagwons. Th eir laughs are boisterous, and you can tell their giggles come from their stomachs. Th eir energy is aff ecting; it makes you smile because happiness is contagious. You savor the short moment, then buy some of your favorite treats and reload your card. You’re in your head again, mentally going through the to-do list for the evening and the rest of your week.

Time is a strange concept because you more oft en than not have to travel to the past to fi nd happiness. And in the moments where you can recognize that the moment you’re experiencing in the present will be a source of bliss in the future, you can’t help but feel bittersweet, tainting the feeling of being present with a little bit of sadness. Maybe you can relate or maybe you’re well versed in living life to the fullest. Either way, I hope you take the time to appreciate the sky when you walk, the scent of freshly baked bread when you pass by a bakery, the smiles on the faces of students when they play a game in class, the fl owers blooming on pavements, or the wind blowing on your face. I hope you’re able to treasure the moments that remind you that you’re a living, breathing being and that whatever the meaning of life is or isn’t, the warm fuzzies are in the small things happening every day.

The Author

Sesetu Holomisa is a 22-year-old South

African living in Korea. She enjoys reading, writing, listening to music, sleeping, and eating. Sesetu’s favorite quote today is “Pain. I seem to have an aff ection, a kind of sweet tooth for it. Bolts of lightning, little rivulets of thunder. And I the eye of the storm’’ by Toni Morrison. Instagram: @sesetuh