Nothing is Worth Craving
*Does an owl crave to be anything other than what it is? *
To crave is to cling onto an imagined future too tightly. It makes you rigid, ultimately ruining your desired outcome, like a golfer gripping their driver too tight. When I crave, emotionally I believe that if my desires are unfulfilled then I will not be okay. I define success and failure as black and white. I realize looking back on my life, though, that had I welcomed the vicissitudes of life without judgement, I would have achieved the outcomes I desired.
This observation is neatly represented in Thomas Merton’s translation of the Taoist writer Zhuangzi:
When an archer is shooting for nothing / He has all his skill. / If he shoots for a brass buckle He is already nervous. / If he shoots for a prize of gold / He goes blind / Or sees two targets— / He is out of his mind.
One personal example of this is when I first met my college girlfriend’s parents. It was during my last semester of undergrad, just before I was set to graduate and move to South Korea to teach at a Hagwon (essentially a tutoring center) for a year.
Her parents, two immigrants from South Korea, were not impressed by my decision, if not totally confused by it. This was my opportunity to meet them face to face, leave a good impression, and reassure them that their daughter's boyfriend was doing something productive with his newly acquired degree.
There were moments on the trip that I made positive impressions. They complimented how tidy I kept the guest room (I made the bed and maintained a neat floor, not strewing my clothes about like the pigeon man in Washington Square Park scattering seeds to his bird friends). They also complimented me on how well I interacted with their family’s golden retriever, who I spent a considerable amount of time playing tug-of-war.
Overall, however, my intuition tells me that I did not check off the more important boxes that my girlfriend's parents were looking for. I already had an uphill battle to fight in order to win them over considering the context that I was meeting them (leaving the country to be a teacher) was not impressing anyone.
The first opportunity to impress came after lunch at their family owned diner when my girlfriend's father pulled me aside to have a private discussion at one of the booths.
Basically, the gist was that he wanted to see what I knew about Korea, America, and the economy. Skipping any of the small talk that I am sure transpired, the first question coming out of the gate was: “What do you think the difference is between South Korea and America?” The subsequent two questions were, "What do you know about past Korean presidents and Korean politics?" and "Explain to me the 2007-2008 financial crisis."
Each question led to a bit of a discussion and although I do not remember my answers specifically, I do remember feeling like I lacked the depth and breadth of the world that he was looking for. Fortunately, I had taken a class called "Korean Politics," which helped me speak more confidently about Korea over the last 75 years. I talked a bit about the Japanese occupation from 1910-1945, Korea’s split across the 38th parallel in 1948, the Korean War, Chun Doo-hwan, the Gwangju Massacre, South Korea's democratization in 1988, and its goal of exporting culture. For the financial crisis, I think I said something about subprime mortgages, but I had no real understanding and I hoped that a few buzzwords would get me off the hook. Also, this question caught me off guard because it was not related to Korea. Once the interview had concluded, I left the booth doubting he had gained confidence in me.
Another moment where I could have won family brownie points came later at dinner. For context, I am half Korean but I did not grow up speaking Korean at home. This topic is reserved for another article, but it partially explains why I wanted to move to Korea and why I would take a class called "Korean Politics" when it had nothing to do with my major or graduating beyond earning me credits. In the spirit of better understanding my heritage, I also took Korean language classes, so at dinner, my girlfriend thought this would be the perfect opportunity for me to share what I had learned.
"Umma, you should speak to Liam in Korean!”
Honestly, this was my worst fear considering I had only taken Elementary Korean I and II (two semesters) up until that point. I could not shy away from this challenge, though, so I smiled and nodded, waiting for my fate.
I actually remember exactly what she said to me, "농구말고 무슨 스퍼츠 제일 좋아해?" which means, besides basketball, what sports do you like the most? I remember understanding every word except for 농구, which means basketball and 말구, which is a grammatical element that means except. So I basically heard, "Something something which sport do you most like?" I was 60% sure that the first word was basketball but that also felt like a random question because, although I did play another sport in college, I did not play basketball. Thus, I thought that the first word could not be basketball contextually, but I guess she assumed I liked basketball because of my height (also, I do like basketball so fair assumption). I was obviously overthinking it. I probably had the vocabulary to say, "What does the first part of the sentence mean?" but I was too nervous to speak (This is actually another example of craving ruining an opportunity. If I was more relaxed in this moment I would have answered better and my goal of being liked by the parents would have been more likely, but this story and trip is part of a bigger example of this).
As a result, I sat paralyzed, thinking about what this one element of the sentence could mean, while my girlfriend, her parents, and her two sisters looked at me expectantly. I felt like an idiot and her mom reinforced this feeling by calling be a 바보 (ba-bo) (this actually translates to idiot), which my girlfriend's older sister exclaimed, "Umma! You can't say that, he can understand you!"
At the end of the trip, my girlfriend's dad pulled me aside again and said that I should understand his perspective. He wanted his daughters to be with someone who has a career and is financially stable—like a consultant (he was a consultant before immigrating to the US). He said it is not anything personal but just a reality. He went on to tell me that if he had sons instead of daughters then he probably would have stayed in Korea because men have more opportunities there. You cannot control the way things are.
Moving to Korea ended up not lasting the whole year as I had intended. After staying for only the summer term, three months, I moved back to New York City in September of 2018. My girlfriend and I were still together, and her father’s parting words rang loud and clear in my mind as I tried to figure out what I should do next. Consultant. I should be a consultant.
The only problem was that this was the first time in my life that thought had ever crossed my mind, and because I did a poor job of optimizing my summer internships (read: I had no corporate internships), I could barely secure any interviews. For the interviews I did land, my case study prep was nowhere near what it needed to be, and I failed to receive any consulting job offers (unsurprisingly).
In the following months, I was extremely stressed about finding a job. I still craved the approval of my girlfriend's parents, even though we weren't in contact during this time. The pressure to succeed was immense. I hoped to secure a job that would not only demonstrate my value but also prove my worthiness of their approval and eventually, their love.
At the time, I thought that my cravings ended with their approval but over the years thinking about my anxiety and fear of things not working out, I recognize now there were additional cravings that influenced me. I also craved creating a family of my own. Not in that first year out of college, obviously, but eventually having a family motivated me. Growing up in a broken family, I always craved the family unit that I never had. An additional craving I had that complicated the equation was a craving to be accepted, despite whatever my external circumstances. I wanted to be loved and seen for my innate qualities.
These cravings made me afraid. I thought that I may never find a job or that I would have to leave NYC to go back home to live with my mom (which would not have been as bad as it seemed at the time). Somehow emotionally it felt like if I could not get a ‘respectable’ job quickly, despite no real experience, I was bound to lose everything I craved in the process too. This combination of fear and cravings that I didn't even know I had underneath the surface made me totally shut down. I became detached as survival mode took over and within the next month or so we broke up.
As the dust has settled over the years, it is clear that I was completely controlled by fear. I became a wall emotionally. In the end, there was no room for the relationship to breathe because I was so focused on things working out a specific way and when things were not going exactly to plan, I broke down.
Had I not gripped onto the future so tightly and relinquished my cravings, we would have gotten through, even stronger, to the other side. Everything that I was stressed about eventually worked out (as these things tend to). I found a job that started in November and I began establishing myself. I had gripped my cravings so tightly that I ruined the relationship. It was me, not the fact that I was job searching or because of my abysmal Korean listening comprehension. If I had accepted the possibility of not finding a job, her parents hating me, the relationship falling apart, never having a family, and ultimately never being loved, then everything would have worked out. I only needed to be secure in myself and my ability to adapt to unforeseen circumstances. Even though things were not working out how I imagined they should, they were working out. I just had to let go, eliminate my cravings, and let everything unfold as it was meant to.
When I craved too deeply, I lost the thing that I actually wanted. If I realized that the problem was with craving I could have stopped myself. I recognize that relinquishing cravings entirely is hard if not impossible, but my life will be better if I let go of the illusion of control. My goal is to have no goals. To stop craving, to let things happen as they should. To not hold on too tight, but to live a life of peace and growth. A patient consistency that does not have to be defined. Once I accept the possibility of a negative outcome, then I am able to create the space necessary for the positive outcome to materialize.
There are still things that I want but the difference is the acceptance that it might not happen. If something does not go according to plan, everything is going to be okay. In fact, things may end up being much better than I ever could have imagined precisely because they did not go according to plan. Whatever plan that my limited, feeble mind can conjure up is certainly beneath that of the powers that govern the universe.
I never needed to fear; it never served me. All experiences were worthy of my sincerest gratitude. Until the end, I will remain faithful that things truly do happen for a reason, even if I cannot see those reasons at the moment. Life has never given me any reason to doubt its wisdom.