Day 14

Waking up today was a piece of cake. After the Meeting yesterday I got to spend some time reflecting and thinking about what I had experienced. Well, you might be asking, what did I experience?


Sitting in a room silently for an hour may not seem like it was something all too special. And I guess to some, it might not be. During the summer of my junior year in college, my roommate, another friend and I decided that we would go to a different church every Sunday and try to catch of glimpse of what some of these practitioners were up to. Our first stop was a Christian Science church that was up the road from our house.  We put on our Sundays best, got blasted and pulled into the church parking lot. After a few minutes of laughing at the congregation who were quite advanced in age, we entered the doors and took a seat. 


We thought we had entered during a prayer, but as time passed we realized that the silence was part of the service. It was an awkward and somewhat grueling silence that never seemed to end and then, without a shred of warning, the entire congregation stood up and started reciting quotes from Mary Baker Eddy. It was weird and just as fast as it started, it ended and everyone took their seat again for more silent prayer. 


We left that day with no real idea as to what they were doing and why the hell it was so quiet. In fact, I seem to remember mocking them many times even though the congregation was tremendously kind to us after the service. We laughed then because we didn't understand why a  service would include that much silence. All of us had been raised in a Protestant setting and were used to a more institutionalized service and religious structure. The Christian Scientists were not typical and differed greatly from why we all knew. In fact, it was so odd that we canceled the entire church-going plan. 


The Quakers are the same way in that conventional Protestant methods of worship aren't practiced. They don't have to read scripture and recite prayers during their worship. The Bible (just like prayer recitation or singing) is just one of many ways to have a relationship with God, but the silent time spent with Friends in the Weekly Meetings is the most important. 


As I sat there yesterday, I looked around and really got a taste of the beauty hidden in this style of worship. The Meeting house is simple just as the services are.  The message isn't hidden and you don't have to memorize prayers to take part. It actually gets back to how I view the origins of Christianity. It's wonderfully primitive insofar that it puts all the frill to the side and touches on what's important.


We've all had moments were we wish for a simpler life. Maybe we want to move to the countryside or retire early and take up fishing. The desire for a quiet life of simplicity is nothing new to humans. I can't remember the exact quote, but I'll retell the story that Thoreau told in Walden.  He said that a women came to his home and offered him a mat for him to wipe his feet on when he entered his very humble home. He refused the offer with a simple yet brilliant (and paraphrased) response. 

"Why should I wipe my feet on a mat when I have sod next to my front door that does just a good of a job? Do I really want to spend time shaking off the mat? Couldn't that time be better spent on other things?"

Thoreau sought a more simple and primitive life where he could focus on the more important things in his life rather than wasting time managing the extra stuff that life throws at us. He wanted to understand his own true nature and its relationship to the world and his surroundings. Spending an hour in silent prayer might sound funny or like a waste of time to some, but in reality it is one of the more pure and primitive forms of worship that I have ever had the privilege to have taking part in. 


It's an hour of intense spiritual searching and we get to do it with Friends and like-minded people who also seek a simpler peace on this world. I see no reason why worship must be jam-packed with singing, standing, repeating and bowing. God is within all of us and I believe the Quakers have a really unique and amazing way of tapping into His true power and joy.

Day 13

I woke up on time today, ate breakfast and was out the door. I didn't want to miss my first Meeting. The drive was a pretty long one as the Meeting House is over 45 minutes away. I pulled in my bike and stopped for a moment to look at the sign. 



The building was made of red brick and stood two-stories tall. Even in this city, it managed to mask itself well among the trees surrounding the premise. I entered the building and followed the group up to the second floor. 


The room was circled with chairs with a table in the center that had a few books, bibles and a single lit candle in the center. The windows were open but the silence was overwhelming. Aside from the gentle rustling of Bible pages turning, there wasn't a sound. This was an unprogrammed service where Friends choose to gather in silence with the intention of finding a deeper and more spiritual connection to God. 


I was a few minutes late and it seemed that the twenty or so people were already settled into their prayer mode. I spotted a chair by the window in the second row and plopped down. A few eyes glanced in my direction, but they were warm and welcoming. After a few moments, I started to feel a bit odd. It was like waiting for an orientation to start where no one knows each other and isn't quite sure how to broach that ice-breaking conversation. Except in this case, no one was expected to talk. So, I just sat there and looked around. 


The day was sunny and since it was still morning, the air was cool as it whipped in and out of the open windows. My fellow Friends were all very normal looking. There wasn't a "plain" person in the room as the dress varied from ties to sandals. I was wearing a collared shirt, khaki pants and my formal black Chacos. After surveying the small group, I decided to drift into meditation. However, I couldn't do it so easily. I haven't ever meditated in front of such a big group. I'm used to doing it alone in my house with my dog. And to make it worse, not everyone was silently praying. Some were reading the Bible while others were just thinking with their eyes open. 


Being able to silently worship with other Friends is one of the most important tenets of the religion. 

"The meeting house is not a consecrated edifice, and if there is anything holy about it, it must be the lives of the people who meet there. The Friends feel that there must be a vital and sustained connection between worship and daily life. When their ideal is attained, their meeting is merely the community search for that guidance which they covet for every important act of their lives." -William Wistar Comfort

As I sat there, I started to become a little anxious about what was going to happen next and how I was going to approach it. There wasn't a visible clock in the room and I thought it would be rude for the new guy to start glaring at his phone. I wasn't sure if I was really late or on time because once the first person enters the room, the worship starts. I guess I'm just used to an organized service where someone is telling me what to do and say and this frustration continued to compound until I remembered a quote 

"Bring neither a determination to speak nor a determination to remain silent."

What that means is that if someone feels a spiritual connection or reception of some sort, they are welcome to share that with the group. I don't know how often that actually happens and it didn't happen today, so we'll have to wait on that one. 


For an hour, Friends of all ages and races (although there were no children) meditated, read the Bible or just sat in deep peaceful concentration. Meditating in this situation did prove to be difficult because it is not meant to be a mere intellectual exercise.  My thoughts coasted from my busy life to my marriage for quite some time and after what I can assume was about thirty or so minutes, I drifting into a fairly solid meditative state. During that time, some people stood up and other times they went to the center table to grab a Bible, but the focus was inward and the connection eventually felt among friends was undeniable. 


During my mediation, I did stumble across a few spiritual sparks which I will share with you tomorrow as I need to time to further interpret what I felt. 


After the silent time, I was a bit confused. People started moving around and some even left the room. There was no real organization or a leader, so I headed to the bathroom only to discover an empty prayer room when I returned. I looked around the building for the Friends, but could not find them. After ten minutes of searching, I had no other options but to leave. 


Unfortunately, I didn't have the main guys telephone number with me. I had to wait until I got home to call him. He told me that after the meeting there is a thirty-minute discussion on peace initiatives, civic participation and spirituality as well as introductions. I'll have to wait until next week for that, but today was a fascinating day and one that I can't wait to enjoy again next Sunday.

Day 12

Last night I was at home. The opening match of the World Cup was on and I decided to watch it. My wife had plans with some of her colleagues, so it was just me and my dog. I'm alright with nights like this. After being married for awhile you come to appreciate a silent moment when it happens upon you. The game was typically boring and since I don't really care too much for either team (South Africa v. Mexico), I decided to jazz the ambiance up with some tunes. 


I wasn't sure what I wanted to listen to. I think I'm on the tail-end of yet another big Dead binge these days, so  perhaps something else would be in order. Maybe Talking Heads? Nah, they're not great to listen to alone. How about Country Joe? Maybe, but if I got into that, then I'd be listening to Richie Havens in no time. I have thousands of songs illegally downloaded on my desktop for moments just like this. I continued to search and eventually landed on Michael Jackson. It's safe and pretty much goes with everything. I created a playlist, turned the vuvezela music (otherwise known as the World Cup broadcast) off and grabbed a book. 




The mood was fine, but MJ and Dostoyevsky just don't mix. A stolen childhood just doesn't stack up against a katorga prison camp. I put the book down and did some thinking. (Did you know that closet air is the best for thinking? Classic line at the 5:00 mark. ) That, of course, led to some silent meditation. You might be wondering how mediation as a Quaker is different from meditation as a Buddhist. Ostensibly, there is very little. Buddhists typically cross their legs and make a circular connection with their hands. There's more of mind-body-soul thing happening. With Quakers, there's no such connection. Rather, the time is used for reflection of ones own deeds and their relationship with God. Since I'm still on unclear terms with God, I use this time to focus on my own deeds and role on this earth. 


This time, however, I couldn't get the Michael Jackson song "Bad" out of my head. After many failed attempts, I just went with it and eventually landed on a pleasant moment that turned out to be a teachable one. Isn't that was this is all about anyways?


As a child, my sister and I were pretty close. Sure, I would occasionally steal her stuff or tell secrets about her at our school, but most of the time it was a pretty standard sibling arrangement. I remember telling her friends that she cried every morning while getting ready because she and my mother would argue about her hairstyle. That was true actually. My mother has always been obsessed with haircuts and hair styles. She still is.


So, every once and awhile we would make our own dance routine up and perform it for our parents. It was pretty serious choreography, but the costumes really added the flare that was going to take us to the next level of living room performances. On one particular evening, we were going to be doing a "Bad" routine. For one reason or another, my sister didn't want me dancing this time. She made me her "manager" -a role that I took very seriously. One of my biggest tasks was to introduce her to the audience (of two) and after that introduction I was supposed to gently slap her behind and then go "backstage". 


Well, I did the introduction very well and then it was time for my big slap. A pulled back and let it fly. Unfortunately, the point was not pain and that was just what I offered. My sister yelled at me and then ran upstairs crying. The audience was a little let down but they knew we'd be back in the future. 


These dances were part of my childhood. We planned and performed them and even though it was only for an audience of my parents, it was just as much a concert than if we were performing for thousands. We felt it. It didn't need to be official or anything like that. All it took was a small group to enjoy and, for me at least, that was a very special and important part of my childhood. 


Tomorrow I will be attending my first Quaker Meeting. I don't know what to expect, but I know that it'll be small and quiet. They have unprogrammed meetings where Friends sit in silence and focus on their connection with God. It doesn't matter how many people are there nor does it matter that there is no pastor leading the service. Bigger does not mean better and  the perception of officialism that a pastor offers isn't needed. Just like with my childhood dance routines, if it feels real then it is real. 

Day 11

Easy Friday for me. I guess most Fridays are pretty easy. Just like the rest of the world (save for US and Canada), Korea is gearing up for the World Cup. I've never been a big soccer fan, but that doesn't mean you're going to find me ragging on the sport. I happen to think it's a little anti-climatic at times, however, soccer is just one of many that could make a nice niche on that list. Rather surprisingly, I've discovered that most non-Americans (in an international setting) tend to use a soccer match as a chance to lampoon Americans for not following the game to their standards. 


Here's an example:

Typical Brit: Hey, do you understand "offsides"?

Me: Yeah. It's pretty simple. 

Typical Brit: Wow! I'm surprised.

Me: And why is that?

Typical Brit: There's a saying in England: "Only two types of people don't understand offsides: women and Americans."

Me: Don't you waste a lot of energy talking about Americans?

I've actually had this conversation before and was honestly taken back by how much some of these guys obsess over Americans not liking soccer. On the same note, the amount of time Americans spend analyzing why we don't like soccer.  Some much energy is wasted on such an absurd thing. We need more time to focus on what's important. It's only been ten days so far and I'm looking forward to my first Meeting this coming Sunday, but I can honestly say that I have been thinking and living in a much more pointed way. I have thrown out the excess. 


Quakers don't waste energy on dogmas and creeds. They live by testimony and action. Engaging in such trivialities with an obnoxious Brit who is too blinded by his own delusions of the world is a waste of time. The next world isn't the focus this month nor it is the focus of Quakers. Making this world a better place is what this religion is about. 

True godliness doesn't turn men out of the world but enables them to live better in it and excites their endeavours to mend it. -William Penn

How much time do you waste on the wrong things? 

Day 10

Yesterday was my father's birthday. He turned 59 this year. I guess that might still seem young to some, but as I've gotten older and see my family less and less, their age becomes more apparent and certainly more pronounced. I shared a song with him in an email that works well for family. 





I'd like to repost something I wrote about my father on my families very short-lived blog. 


SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2008

Coach Hogan

When 고운 and I discuss our future and life in America, it invariably comes back to one thing: I want have to coach my son's baseball team.

There are few things that I want in this life. I want my children to be worldly, compassionate and concerned for the earth and their fellow man; my marriage solid and I want to coach my son's (or daughter's) baseball team. It might sound odd, but as we all know, Kristin and I had the amazing experience of having Dad coach our teams as we grew up. This was a bond that will forever stick with me and nothing can ever compare to some of the times that Dad and I shared together with the baseball.

Baseball is not my favorite sport -American football is, but when I look at a baseball diamond or see a glove or baseball, the memories come rushing back.

First, let me start by saying that Dad is not an athlete. In fact, I would be so bold to say that he is one of the most unathletic people I know, but that didn't stop him from  trying failing to jump on a trampoline for the first at 40 years old or playing hours and hours of shuffleboard and ping pong with me and it certainly didn't stop him from being one of the best coaches a young boy could have.

I say "best", but it wasn't because he had supreme knowledge of the sport. That wasn't necessary for the hoards of little-leaguers that he would guide through the beginnings of the game. He was the best because of the enthusiasm that he showed while coaching. I remember sitting with Dad on so many occasions while we would figure out each players batting averages and try to find the best place for them to bat in the line-up. He would spend months talking to other coaches, trying to find the best players for the upcoming little league draft. He had an unrivaled enthusiasm for baseball season and a gift for a fun, encouraging and productive practice. No matter how busy he was at work, he always seemed to be able to pull away and hit a few balls at practice or toss it around in our small and stick-riddled back yard.

To Dad, it wasn't about baseball. It was time with his children and family. As we know, he didn't have a close relationship with his father. There seemed to be some favoritism in the family and the attention was on Margaret Rose, rather than little Johnny. Maybe it was his adoption or maybe it was his father's inability to convey emotions well, but Dad told me about his rocky relationship with his father and always made it very clear to me that he did not intend our relationship to turn out like that. Baseball was his conduit. It was his way of opening the door to a close relationship with his children and wife. He didn't really love baseball; he loved what baseball stood for in our family.

And as life has continued on and I am no longer a boy, I will always have those memories; those amazingly special, loving and youthful memories. I will always be thankful for his enthusiasm and love that came from that beautiful baseball diamond. Unlike Dad, I will not have to tell my children that I was never close to my father. And I can guarantee you that there will be another Coach Hogan around within the decade and, luckily, I learned from the best.

That was two years ago. Since then, I have only seen my dad twice and I need to do a better job for sure, but since becoming an adult, I have always felt that we had a silent bond. We've never really followed the rules of a traditional father-son relationship anyways. What works for some, doesn't work for all. The Quakers knew that as well. They had no intention of starting their own denomination of Christianity -it just happened that way.

Beliefs are not just safe ledges in an uncertain reality, but rather handholds from which further heights can be reached. -Eleven Quaker Scientists, 1989

As you know, I've been spending an awful lot of time this month in silent prayer. I love it. True 

Silence ... is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment. -William Penn 1692

 In that time, I've thought about lot of things. This came to mind about my father.

The Whistle

A melodic tune born of wool and toil

Dances from the cords but rests in the soil

A pure choir of love tarnished by despair

The stench of stale of hope was too much to bare

Timid yet bold the lamb broke free,

Too soon he settled for comfort and glee

A voyage; a quest, the world he was shown

Only to find himself again all alone

The pitch changed a bit but not all that much

by the flock he once knew viewed as a crutch

As he wrangled with fear the joy was masked

so tired of doing just what was asked

Departed once more for the open hills

A dasher to dance and sing as he feels

To this very day his tune carries on

For his own to cherish after he's gone

Day 9

I've had a few casual exchanges with a couple Protestants about the nature of poverty and what my role (as a Quaker) is and how it's different from that of Protestants. I wasn't sure how to answer that, but I engaged anyways. I sounded off a few things about the sharing of resources and how Quakers deeply supported extended aid and mission work in Africa, but in all honesty, Protestants do the same. Many Friends will rattle for hours about searching for the root of injustice and I think that is something in itself, but it was not enough for me to truly answer the question. 


The hardest part about this project is my struggle to define the religion. I could use the texts, but people often violate their own rules making it hard to decipher fluff from reality. I could use modern practitioners as well, yet they are typically different from their elders. If you were to ask me off the cuff, I would probably say that Quakers are very serious about giving. Conservative Friends might have less to offer while the Liberal Friends perhaps could have more expendable assets to throw around, but that is only my assumption which, unfortunately, is based on very little.


So, I ask myself again, How do Quakers view poverty? Or more importantly, what are Quakers supposed to do about it?


To answer this question, we must first seek to understand the true nature of Quakerism. Simply put, Quakerism is about simplicity, truth, equality and understanding. Every aspect of the religion adheres to those principles. It should also be said that adhering to such principles doesn't dictate that wealth is an evil nor does it push a particular work ethic in return for salvation. 

"Quakers came to do good, and stayed to do well."

This quote originated from Philadelphia Friends and sums up early Quakerism. While some could misconstrue this as exploitation of talents, the truth is actually more like people chose to do business with Quakers because of the level of trust they earned. Historical Friend, William Penn, was regarded as a man that was very fair and just. He earned the respect of his fellow countrymen and neighboring Native American population just the same. He was enterprising and a bold businessman. 

The map to the left is from what was called the "Walking Purchase". It's been deemed a "swindle" at this point, but in its original conception, Penn was there and was said to have handled the deal in a honest fashion. It wasn't until long after his death did the deal go sour and turn into yet another betrayal of our Native American brothers and sisters. 




And while Penn might have been the enterprising busy-type that he was, he didn't lose sight of what was important.

We are inclined to call things by the wrong names. We call prosperity 'happiness', and adversity 'misery' eventhough adversity is the school of wisdom and often the way to eternal happiness. 

Another strand of Quakerism can be witnessed through the life of John Woolman who could have been just as much of a success as Penn but chose to live by the Testimony of Simplicity insofar that he only worked enough to maintain a sustainable wage and the rest of his time was committed to helping the less fortunate. 


Both of these men were devout Quakers and both are still highly regarded by all Friends. They were trusted in business because they lived by their own principles of truth, simplicity and understanding. Quakerism stresses simplicity in several ways that far exceed the realm of simplicity in dress and speech. They sought a simplified life where any form of manipulation and coercion was recognized to lead to a more vexing existence. They understood that in order to truly understand the plight of the impoverished, they must too feel such poverty. 

“If a man, successful in business, expends part of his income in things of no real use, while the poor employed by him pass through difficulties in getting the necessaries of life, this requires his serious attention.” —John Woolman

Of course, this raises an important question. Do we have to experience poverty in order to understand poverty? And furthermore, is this a uniquely Quaker characteristic?


I think being impoverished certainly helps to understand what it's like. Barbra Ehrenreich certainly got a heavy dose of the struggles of the workin' (wo) man while writing Nickel And Dimed. It gives you a firsthand experience and a kind of shared feeling for the less fortunate. However, if you were to ask college kids (save for parts of the South and Midwest) whether or not they believed the government should be providing more social welfare and assistance to the impoverished, they'll most likely say 'yes'. Students aren't typically "poor", though. Some would argue they hold such convictions because they've never really toiled to earn money; that they don't understand the true value of it. 


Perhaps, and the fact that Barbara Bush Jr. has now joined Laura in concluding that  "health should be a right for everyone" when asked about the historic healthcare law that her father's party fought so hard to derail. 

Why do, basically, people with money have good health care and why do people who live on lower salaries not have good health care?" she said.

Characteristically eloquent, huh? Still, the Bush family is about as wealthy as they come. But just like with the college students, one could argue that since they've never had to work hard just to scrape by that they have a somewhat jaded or out-of-touch perception on the value of money. Following that logic, only people who have worked hard for their money can opine on healthcare and poverty. Right?

Nope. The rich are rich and believe that the government does NOT need to provide assistance to the poor. 


Remember this incident? I wonder what religion this Ohio teabagger was?





So sad. The poor, on the other hand, wouldn't mind the help. Yet, William Penn was wealthy and Woolman was a tad more on the modest side and they offered everything they could to help. You would not hear even mutter the words "hand-out". What accounts for this difference?


Empathy.


Most people who aren't named Glenn Beck find empathy to be a wonderful thing. Then again, most people aren't trading in their last scraps of integrity for a few more finals breaths of "professional" life. I know I think it's a wonderful thing and I know that Quakers do as well. Empathy is a fascinating thing.  A recent study found that vegetarians are more empathetic in general to all forms of suffering. (I'd like to see a religious and political breakdown as well.)

The first main finding of this study is that, compared to Omnivores, Vegans and Vegetarians show higher activation of empathy related brain areas (e.g. Anterior Cingular Cortex and left Inferior Frontal Gyrus) when observing scenes of suffering; whether it be animal or human suffering.

Further, pictures of animal suffering (in contrast to pictures human suffering) recruited specific brain regions in Vegans and Vegetarians that were not differentially recruited by Omnivores. These were areas which are thought to be associated with higher-order representations of the self and self values (e.g. medial Prefrontal Cortex)

Quakers aren't all vegetarians or vegans, but they do actively pursue the end of human suffering. As mentioned before, the oneness with God makes all living things equal and therefore deserving of respect, assistance and empathy. Even though some early Quakers own slaved, they quickly switched from buying them for labor to buying them for freedom and education. That trend has continued as they still fight for the poor and unfortunate and have taken the first steps on everything from suffrage to immigration reform.


So, after thinking about this for awhile, I've come up with a few ideas. Many Protestants are giving just like many Catholics, Buddhists and just about every other religion. Love is stressed in all religions. However, Quakers are very organized, somewhat cohesive and define a mission statement at their Meetings. That mission in then carried out in a very organized fashion. There's nothing symbolic about it. If the Quakers want something done, they're going to do their darnedest to get it done. The ripples might not be felt all across the world or even the country for that matter, but all Friends who are part of that specific Meeting live by that mission.


So, do Quakers view poverty differently than Protestants?


No, they view it the same. It's just that the Quakers are organized enough to get something done and Friends feel very responsible for each and every person regardless of faith or whether or not they can be converted. We are all equal and we all deserve an equal shot.

Day 8

Before coming to Korea, I seriously considered joining the Peace Corps. There was something romantic about the idea of running getting away from the hustle of life and throwing myself deep into a remote location surrounded by a culture that was so foreign to me that after I was done with the whole thing, I was sure to be changed for the better. I guess you might think that Korea was that escape and if you define it as such -an escape- then perhaps you'd be right. I have found myself surrounded by a culture that is pretty foreign to me and I've been doing it for about half a decade, but I don't get that romanticized feeling of separation or even isolation that the Peace Corps might have offered. I wanted that third-world experience and thought, however foolishly, that South Korea might offer a healthy dose of just that. 

I was wrong. I actually found myself in the middle of a city that made my previous cities look like remote locales. The simplicity that I was searching for was not to be found here and while there's still a part of me that longs for the Walden in my imagination, I know that denying myself the beauties of human creativity would only lead to unhappiness and frustration. I am a child of this world; this global culture; this era.  

Denying this fact is irresponsible.

Friends of the past and the conservative Friends today seek a more "plain life" and some of them have managed to do it quiet successfully. Like I did many years ago, the early Quakers tried very hard to set themselves apart from people who pursued worldly affairs. They divorced themselves of every aspect of the world that -in their mind- would blind them to the Light. Displays of wealth like fancy clothes, words and property were very much frowned upon and with that, unfortunately, went music and art. There were numerous reasons someone could be disowned back then. For instance, fiddling, dancing or striking someone could result in an excommunication of sorts. However, Quakerism is not static. It does not set out to limit itself in this changing world.

It appears to me to be one important means of helping the human mind in a healthy state, that in recreations which are needful for it, it should be trained as much as possible to look to those things that bring profit as well as pleasure with them. My observation of human nature and the different things that affect it frequently leads me to regret that we as a Society so wholly give up delighting the ear by sound. Surely He who formed the ear and the heart would not have given these tastes and powers without some purpose for them. - Personal Journey (21.30) 1883

What a brilliant passage, especially that last line. There is a purpose for it. Why would "He" give us ears and arms to play music and legs to dance if we were not supposed to use them. Just like I wanted before Korea, the early Quakers were so determined to separate themselves that they seemed to have gotten lost in the charade. I'm not disparaging those who choose to abstain from such pursuits, but denying the natural inclination towards music and the connection between the heart, soul and ears is a loss. 


In the days leading to my departure for Korea, I was imaging how much I was going to go without. I had no computer, no television, no phone and no means to play music. That idea excited me. (Hell, I'm even excited about my upcoming month of Jainism in January that will force me to beg for everything.) Luckily, my very wise mother knew better than I did and bought me my first MP3 player. I still have it. In this case, she was like the modern Friends who saw the danger in denying something so loved by the human ear. 


It's fine to desire a simplistic, earnest or humble life and it's also fine to abstain from certain behaviors, but doing so in the name of a misguided attempt at romanticism is simply foolish. I can honestly say that I would have been miserable had Korea turned out to be anything like I originally imagined. The universe worked with me on this one, but it won't always work out that way. Don't "give up delighting the ear by sound", there is a purpose.